Mirror, Mirror
by Silent Elegy
Summary: When Stan appears to lose his mind and go on a killing spree, it's up to Ari and Rosalyn to stop him. But the truth of the matter lies far beyond Stan and James, in a time three hundred years in the past.
1. An Evil Plot is Hatched

The sunset from above Madril was a gorgeous display of oranges and pinks with just a hint of purple. The sound of the waterfall cascading down the rocks created a music that no mortal musician could ever hope to match. All around, the trees were just starting to change color; bright green mixed with red and orange in a stunning collage. The whole scene was like something out of an artist's imagination. It was the perfect romantic spot.

Two nightmarish lovers shared the scenery. One wore a blue suit with tails and had a white cow's skull for a head. The other would almost have been pretty with her black hair and pale blue skin if not for the tentacles that replaced her arms and her clawed, reptilian feet. She wore a green evening dress that accentuated her eyes, but anyone observing the two would have been hard-pressed not to notice that most of her skin was actually scale. She also had horns.

James really liked horns. He thought that Natasha's horns were her most striking feature. Many a man would have agreed, though not for the same reason.

"But, Jamie," the demoness was saying. "This could all be ours. Why won't you talk Stan into taking over the world?"

James sighed. They'd had the conversation before. Both of them wanted to take over the world, but James didn't have the power to do that. His master, Evil King Stan did, but Stan only seemed interesting in tormenting his slave Ari. He had explained that many times before, and he knew Natasha understood. As he watched her, however, he sensed something different. Instead of his usual response, he asked, "Is something wrong, my sweet?"

Natasha sighed prettily and batted her luxurious lashes. "Oh, Jamie. You know I love you, but I just can't stay with a man who doesn't see himself as anything more than a butler."

James was dumbstruck. He and Natasha had been seeing each other for centuries, and his position as Evil Butler had never bothered her before. It's what he had always done, ever since the Evil King Mortimer had created him.

"But-but…My pet…" James stammered, at a complete loss for words.

Natasha sniffed slightly. "I know, Jamie. But this is something I have to do. Either prove your love for me by taking over the world, or I'll have to leave you."

James opened his mouth to give his usual canned response, then shut it as a thought crossed his mind. "You know," he began slowly. "Master Stanley really isn't the greatest Evil King in history, is he?"

"No, he's not…" Natasha answered, a bit nonplussed by the apparent turn of conversation.

"No, he really isn't. In fact, don't you think I'd make a much better one?"

Natasha squealed with glee. "Oh, Jamie, do you really mean it?"

He nodded emphatically. "All I have to do is knock Stan out of power, and I know just the thing." He chuckled maliciously. "Let him see himself for what he really is. A stupid imbecile."

Together, James and Natasha laughed and planned until well after the moon had risen.

* * *

The village of Tenel was a quiet and peaceful place. Nothing bad ever happened. Everyone knew everyone else. Everyone was happy. Life was good.

_It's enough to make an honest Evil King sick_, thought Stan, the resident Great Evil King. Stan hated Tenel. In fact, the only reason he was there now instead of out conquering the world was because-

"STANLEY HIHAT TRINIDAD! I WILL FIND YOU!"

-he was too busy hiding in a closet from his slave's girlfriend, the once Princess Marlene. She had been so nice and grateful in the beginning, after Stan and Ari and their (well, Ari's) friends had defeated her father and brought an end to Classification. Then she had started to remember all the things she'd had as a princess and wishing she had them back. All the years she had spent hiding in Triste were forgotten in the face of what she considered poverty.

In the beginning, she had actually been relatively polite to Stan. Now…

_Now, when she deigns to notice me, she yells!_ he though angrily. _I didn't even do anything to her this time. What on earth is she yelling about anyway?_

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who wanted to know. He could hear Annie ask what happened. She sounded way too close for comfort.

Marlene huffed. "Stan's done it again!"

"Done what?" Annie asked. Ari's sister didn't have much in the way of life-preserving instincts.

"What do you think?" Marlene shouted. Stan could almost hear Annie flinch.

"Well…I…uh…think I left something burning…" Annie's footsteps pounded back down the hallway.

_She must have better instincts than I gave her credit for, _Stan thought with a mental snicker.

Marlene huffed and shouted and stomped around outside Stan's hiding place for several more minutes. Finally, however, she seemed to grow bored and stomped away. Stan stayed where he was for a long time, just in case she hadn't actually left. Suddenly, the door opened.

"You can come out now."

Stan let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Slave!" he yelled for no reason. "I wasn't hiding!"

"I know," Air said with a shrug and that infuriatingly knowing smile of his.

"I was just making sure that there weren't any ghosts in here."

"Sure, Stan."

"Because I saw one come in here earlier."

"Whatever you say."

"…So where is that girlfriend of yours, anyway?"

The boy stopped smiling in favor of a long-suffering expression with rather exaggerated pain. "Looking for you in the bar."

Stan leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe. "Oh, so that was her yelling a bit ago."

"You'd have to have been deaf not to have heard it," Annie said, poking her head around the corner. "Especially since she was standing right there."

Stan stamped down a retort in favor of an uncaring shrug. "Whatever. If you'll excuse me, I have very important things to attend to now." He brushed past them towards the door to his room.

Once the door was safely slammed shut, Annie chuckled. "Did he really think he was fooling anyone?"

Ari shook his head. "But that's not the point," he answered. "Stan would die before he'd admit that he was hiding in there, especially when he could have blown Marlene to pieces with little more than a thought."

His sister's expression turned thoughtful. "He really doesn't make a very good Evil King, does he?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Just don't let him hear you say that."

In his room, Stan snorted and pulled his ear away from his door. "What does she know, anyway? It's hard work being an Evil King."

"Indeed it is, Master!" James announced brightly.

Stan barely succeeded in repressing a shout and whirled around. "What have I told you about sneaking up behind me?" he demanded.

"Sorry, Master," James said, not sorry in the slightest. "I just couldn't appear in front of you because of the door."

Stan looked at the door then back at James. "Oh, right. So what do you want?"

James grinned hugely. "Does the Master know what today is?"

If looks could kill, Stan's withering glare would have made a wasteland for miles around. "Just tell me. I'm not in a good mood."

James was completely unaffected by the show of malice. He'd seen it before, after all, in much more dangerous forms. He was, however, a bit incredulous. "You don't remember your own birthday?"

Stan opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked at the calendar, but that was no help because he hadn't changed it for several months. He wasn't even certain it was the proper year anymore. He looked back at James and opened his mouth again. Then he shut it again.

James sighed. "I was afraid of this. Your long time in imprisonment has caused you to forget your own birthday."

"I have other things on my mind," Stan retorted, though he couldn't help but spare a glance at the bottle he'd spent three centuries in. He liked to keep it where he could see it. If it weren't unbreakable, he'd have shattered it long ago.

"It's all right, Master!" James said, his happy mood returning. "James is here to remind you!"

"Oh, joy," Stan muttered.

"And your faithful James brought you a present." Suddenly, he had Stan's complete attention. "Well, actually, it's from me and Natasha." And he lost it again.

Stan didn't like Natasha. He'd never actually met her, but as far as he was concerned, she was the reason James wasn't a very good servant; the ghostly butler spent almost every waking moment with her. He fully expected the present to be something stupid, like clothes with pink flowers on them or something.

James waved his arms, and a puff of smoke brought a tall, oval thing draped with a sheet into the middle of the floor. "Ta-da!"

Stan pulled the sheet away to reveal-

"It's a mirror," he observed bemusedly.

"Ah, ah, Master," James said, waving his finger. "This isn't just a mirror. It's a magic mirror."

The destructive-minded Evil King perked up slightly. "What's it do? Does it destroy things?"

"Oh, it can," James agreed with a mysterious smile that Stan didn't notice.

"Well," Stan demanded impatiently. "How does it work?"

"You just have to stand in front of it."

"What? That's it?" He tilted his head slightly to the left, but his reflection didn't follow the movement. Alarmed, he jerked back and tried to demand to know what was going on, but his reflection reached out and grabbed him. Before he could react further, he was yanked through to the other side. Although he recovered quickly, when he whirled around to move back through, his hands encountered only glass.

The mirror Stan looked around at itself, then looked at James.

"I hope you like your new home," James said, smug. "You'll be there for quite a while."

"James!" Stan shouted. He beat on the glass, yelling, "Let me out of here, now!"

Instead, James glanced at Mirror Stan, who was glaring at him in mild annoyance. "A decent job," he said. "Break it."

Stan, knowing instinctively that the mirror was his only means of escape, became more frantic. The being shrugged, sneered, and lifted its hand to shoot a beam of energy that blew the mirror outward into thousands of pieces beneath Stan's hands.

His hands were bleeding; blood wasn't particularly new to him, as it was to some of the other denizens of what had been jokingly dubbed Marlene's Playground. It was unnerving to see his own, however. Taking a handkerchief from one of his pockets, he tore it in ragged halves and tied them around his hands before turning to survey his location.

Mirror shards littered the floor of a room that was a perfect mirror image of the one he'd left. Glass crunched beneath his boots as he strode across to what should have been the door to the rest of the house. But, although the knob was really there and not just painted onto the door, it didn't turn at all.

He walked back across the room to the window, thinking perhaps he could break it and escape, but it wasn't a real window. Even from right in front of it, the view didn't change. It was like watching a painting that moved; the trees swayed in the breeze and a bird flew by every few minutes or so, but the scene didn't actually change. It was just the same several minutes repeated endlessly. The clock on what could be considered his bedside table was the same way. It counted a certain amount of time, from the time Stan had unveiled the mirror to the time it had been shattered, then it started over.

He strode over to the mirror version of his bottle, intending to take out his aggression by throwing it around, but he couldn't even lift it. It wasn't that it was heavy; the bottle was attached to its table, which was, in turn, attached to the floor.

He backed away until his knees hit something very hard and yelped more from startlement than pain as he fell backward onto the bed. He shouted as his head hit the unyielding surface and sat up quickly. Naturally, a knot began to form.

As he looked around the unchanging environment, he was struck by a sudden realization. "I'm going to go mad."

* * *

James nodded with satisfaction. The only thing left of the magic mirror was its charred frame. He looked around the room as though searching for something. "It really was a nice place," he muttered. "Madam fixes the best omelets… Burn it."

* * *

Some out of place light on the floor arrested Stan's attention: the mirror shards were glowing red. He picked one up and dropped it with a yelp, then stuck his fingers in his mouth to ward off the unexpected heat. It was several minutes before he understood.

"He's destroyed the mansion…" he muttered as he dropped onto the bed. He wasn't concerned as much about the pointless violence as he was about James' behavior. Such behavior was completely out of character for him.

"That Natasha!" he shouted as inspiration struck. "This is all her fault! When I get my hands on her…" He trailed, unwilling to face the knowledge that he might never escape to claim his revenge.


	2. Ch2: A Storm of Information

Several months had passed since the destruction of the manor. After destroying Ari's home, Stan and James had destroyed Tenel. Ari's family and Marlene had moved to the relative safety provided by Triste, but not all the villagers were so lucky. Some had died in the attack; others were left to be homeless refuges, fleeing to whatever town would take them. A few months had passed, then Stan had attacked Madril. Fortunately, he hadn't managed to do more than destroy a few houses on the upper level and both of the science labs. With the destruction of the labs, the gears that littered the city had stopped turning, but people were just happy that they had their lives; the gears could be repaired.

Ari was sitting at the bar of the Screwdriver Inn in Madril, waiting for someone.

"Heard he's immortal," said Mr. Know-It-All, the resident busybody. Mr. KIA, as he was called, knew everything that happened in Madril because he was the world's worst gossip. The only person who knew more than Mr. KIA was Mr. Big, owner of Mr. Big Inc., and the ex-Evil King of Chairmen.

Mr. KIA was currently talking to some young members of the Hero's Club. "Heard he's been around for five hundred years," he continued, to the awed chorus of the Heroes.

_It was three hundred,_ Ari thought. _And he trapped in a bottle for practically all of it._

"I heard he was friends with the Great Hero for a while," one the Heroes ventured.

Mr. KIA shook his head. "Nah, that's not true. It's just a rumor."

_Actually, it was true, sort of,_ Ari thought. Mr. KIA was starting to get on his last nerve.

Suddenly, the door of the establishment flew open, pouring rain, sleet, and very cold air in through the door. The howling wind and darkened sky, occasionally lit by lightning, were a testament to the storm that had raged for two days. Popular rumor was that Evil King Stan had started it. Ari didn't think so, not unless Stan had learned a few new tricks. People just wanted to forget that it was the stormy season, so they could blame everything on Stan.

The newcomer to the inn managed to wrestle the door closed. Despite the heavy woolen cloak, she was quite obviously female. Below the cloak, one could just barely see though the muck that covered her boots that they were pink. A little further down, and one could see that her shadow was also pink.

She stomped up to the bar and flopped onto a bar stool next to Ari. Without bothering to pull off her cloak, or even push back the hood, she crossed her arms on the counter and dropped her head onto them.

"What happened to your umbrella?" Ari asked, rather amused in spite of himself.

"Parasol, and it blew away," came the muffled reply. "Does anyone know its me?"

Ari glanced toward the table where the Hero's Club members sat nudging each other and saying, "She's got a pink shadow! She must be the Great Hero!" He chuckled quietly and said, "Yeah. Yeah, they do."

Rosalyn groaned, but didn't move. "Tell me when they leave," she said. She had noticed them when she came in.

"Actually, they're coming this way."

"What?" Rosalyn exclaimed, bringing her head up quickly and turning. "Oh, great! Just what I need."

"Excuse me," said the first Hero. "Are you Hero Rosalyn?"

"No, I'm not," she said shortly.

"Oh," he said dejectedly just as another one said, "But-but…your shadow…"

"Will you go away?" she demanded. "I'm very busy right now."

Mumbling, the Heroes returned to their table.

"You could have been nicer about it," Ari said once they had gone. Rosalyn sighed melodramatically.

"I know…Now I feel bad. But not bad enough to start talking about my stupid pink shadow with them."

"It's the Evil King's curse on her," Mr. KIA was saying behind them. "He's the only one can remove it."

"Will it kill her?" the youngest Hero asked.

"Probably," Mr. KIA agreed.

Rosalyn rolled her eyes. "See what I mean? This is the sort of stuff I had to put up with for months until I figured out that parasol trick."

"It doesn't seem to have stopped them," Ari observed.

"It did for a while, until people figured out why I had it."

They continued to talk about inconsequential things for a long time; neither yet cared to think about what had brought them together here. At some point, an especially loud crash of thunder rocked the foundations of the building and caused the lights to flicker. The patrons of the bar panicked, thinking Stan had come at last to finish destroying Madril.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Rosalyn shouted. "It was thunder, for crying out loud! Come on, Ari. I can't take these people anymore." She stood and moved towards the door.

"Where are we going?" Ari asked as he got up to follow her.

She nearly told him, but her eyes caught on the group of Heroes. "Just follow me," she said instead.

Once outside, the noise of the storm was overpowering. Rosalyn shouted something, but she couldn't even hear herself. She grabbed Ari's arm, instead, and pulled him through the gale. After what seemed like hours, they reached their destination. This time, the hard part was getting the door open, but with the two of them working together, they managed to get into the hotel in a relatively short time.

"We need a room," she told the manager and threw a few coins on the counter.

He reached beneath the desk and pulled out the appropriate key. "Right down the hall," he said as he handed it to her. The two had only gone a few steps when the manager said, "Miss, I can't help but notice your shadow is-"

"Oh, shut up!" Rosalyn shouted without even bothering to hear him out. She managed to get to their room in record time, leaving Ari to run after her, and the manager to puzzle out what exactly he had said to offend her.

"I really hate people sometimes," Rosalyn said without preamble.

Ari smiled slightly and closed the door. "If you'd had your parasol, that's what he would have been asking about," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's not as bad. That's just eccentricity as far as they know."

This statement sounded rather strange, even for Rosalyn, so Ari decided not to pursue the matter. "What have you heard?" he said changing the subject.

It didn't take Rosalyn very long to understand what he meant. "Not a thing. For all I know, Stan's dropped of the face of the planet." She paused, then said as an afterthought, "And we would all be better off if he had."

"I don't understand what started this," Ari sighed. "He was fine. He was being his normal self, and then…this…"

"He's an Evil King, Ari," Rosalyn said kindly. She knew Ari tended to think of Stan as something like a friend. "It was bound to happen sometime."

"With Classification, maybe," Ari argued. "But now…" He trailed off; he didn't actually know where he was going with that sentence.

"He'd been an Evil King for way too long to change just like that," Rosalyn said. "Like me. I've been a Hero for so long, I'm not going to change that just because I no longer have to be. It's what I am, with or without Classification."

Ari couldn't think of a single argument against this line of logic, so he just shook his head. He couldn't seem to make her understand that Stan hadn't been himself at all when he'd destroyed Tenel. Stan had never been that maniacal. He had always tried to think of some excuse for putting off the destruction of anything. In a way, Rosalyn was right. Stan's bark had always been worse than his bite, so to speak. Why should that suddenly change?

* * *

Ari awoke to a loud slamming noise that caused him to start and fall off of the couch he'd been using for a bed. He sat up quickly and looked around.

The noise of storm was gone, at last. Relatively blue sky could be seen through the room's small window. Rosalyn was stomping around, trying to unpack her breakfast one-handed. The noise that had awakened Ari had been the slamming of the door. Rosalyn had gotten a new parasol in addition to breakfast. She was in a bad mood.

"Oh, you're awake," she remarked. "Here." She threw a bag at him. It contained a bagel and a small container of cream cheese.

"Rosalyn, it's just you and me," Ari said. "Put down the parasol."

Rosalyn seemed about to say something, then sighed and chuckled slightly. "Sorry," she said, tossing it on the bed. "I forgot you don't care about that."

"Bad morning?"

"In addition to the fact that I'm not a morning person?" she asked dryly. "First, I had Heroes following me from one end of town to the other, pelting me with questions. I finally managed to get rid of them by shouting 'Look! It's an Evil King!' and then running. Then, I couldn't find the right color parasol; it was either this red one or nothing. And then, Zot's was out of my gourmet pesto cheese bagels, so I had to settle for plain ones. No, it's not been a good morning."

Ari chuckled. "Any news?" he asked.

Rosalyn mumbled something, but her mouth was full of bagel, rendering her comment unintelligible. She pulled an envelope out of a pocket and tossed it to Ari. "Found it under the door this morning," she said once she had swallowed.

_To: Hero Rosalyn and her apprentice Ari_

_It has come to my attention that there are things, which you must know. Thus, I ask of you to come and visit me in my office. Simply show this invitation to whoever stops you, and you'll have no trouble gaining entry. I'm sure there's no haste, but please come ASAP._

_Mr. Big, Chairman and CEO of Mr. Big Incorporated_

"I wonder what's going on," Ari said.

Rosalyn shrugged. "No clue. I just hope my fan club doesn't come back."

In fact, they did. By the time the pair reached Mr. Big Inc., Rosalyn was so angry that she was almost as pink as her shadow. Any and all attempts to get rid of the young Heroes had failed miserably. Finally, Ari said, "Hey, is that old lady getting robbed by ghosts?"

"What? Where?" the Heroes exclaimed, giving Ari and Rosalyn time to dash past the doorman. He was nice enough to let them in before asking them what their business was.

Ari handed him the note as Rosalyn leaned against the door with her head in one hand. The doorman read through it, then nodded. "I believe you know the way?"

Rosalyn didn't bother to respond; she just starting walking. Ari thanked the man and hastened to follow her. They met a few other people on their way, but no one bothered to do more than wave absentmindedly; apparently, they were all too busy to stop the newcomers.

Mr. Big Inc. was the center of information for the entire world. It was a large building, run mostly by ghosts and headed by the former Evil King of Chairmen, Mr. Big. Ari and his friends had defeated him to get part of Stan's power back. Defeated, Mr. Big had stopped trying to take over the world, and had resumed his attempts to buy it. His most recent idea was a paper that contained information about all the goings-on in the world; it could be shipped to all the cities so that people in Triste could buy it and know what was going on in Rashelo. He called it a "newspaper". Rosalyn didn't think it would catch on.

"Stan attacked Rashelo late last night," Mr. Big said without preamble as Rosalyn and Ari entered his lavishly decorated office. He was searching for something in a filing cabinet and had turned just enough to see who it was.

"He did what?" Rosalyn exclaimed.

Mr. Big nodded. "Two of my reporters and a photographer were there. Saw the whole thing." He apparently found what he was looking for: a large manila envelope full of papers. "Bills," he explained, laying it on his desk and sitting down.

"So what happened?" Rosalyn demanded. "Is everyone okay?"

"Most everyone's alright. The Hero's Club did a pretty good job of getting everyone evacuated." Mr. Big now reached into a drawer and pulled out another envelope. As he sifted papers around, he continued. "Rashelo was completely destroyed, though. A lot of people are homeless. They'll be coming here, of course. But that's not why I asked you here. This is the report of what happened. I want you to look at these pictures." He pulled out several photographs from the folder and spread them on the desk in front of Ari and Rosalyn.

Many of the photographs were pictures of the houses being blasted apart and Stan's energy shots flying through the air, although a few were of James pointing at something or other, and several were of people fleeing in all directions while the Hero's Club tried desperately to save them. These, Mr. Big pulled aside. "Not these," he said. "These don't matter. Just the rest of them."

"Why didn't your photographer get any pictures of Stan?" Ari asked.

"Glad you figured that out so quick," Mr. Big said approvingly. "As a matter of fact, he did. From what he told me, most of these empty shots of rubble and explosions were actually supposed to be of Stan."

"So, Stan doesn't photograph very well," Rosalyn said skeptically.. "So what?"

"So, Evil King or not, he should be in these pictures," Mr. Big explained. "Only two things in this world don't photograph: vampires and ghosts. Stan is neither of these."

"So what are you saying?"

Mr. Big sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, but before he could answer, Ari interrupted. "It's not Stan."

"Exactly!" Mr. Big beamed.

"Then who is it?" Rosalyn demanded.

"Probably a ghost of some sort," Mr. Big said with a shrug.

"Look at these ones of James," Ari said. "It almost looks like he's directing something."

"That's what the reporter said. She said it looked like…James, did you say? It looked like James was telling Stan what to do."

"That's impossible," Rosalyn protested. "Stan would never let anyone tell him what to do."

"That's why I think it's not Stan," Mr. Big explained, almost as though he was talking to a child. "If it was, and I highly doubt that, he's not being himself."

"That's what I thought," Ari said. "When he blew up my house, he was just…too evil. It wasn't like him at all."

Mr. Big nodded. "Well, I just thought you should be informed. And, as a symbol of my good will, I won't even make you pay for the information."

"Oh , gee, thanks," Rosalyn said dryly. "Come on, Ari. If your house is where this started, maybe we'll get some answers there."

"Right. Thanks, Mr. Big."

Mr. Big waved him away. "No problem, kid. Just make sure you stop him before destroys my building."


	3. Ch3: Into the Realm of Shadows

"It's absolutely wonderful, darling!" Natasha squealed as she watched the smoldering ruins of Rashelo quietly fall into the lake. She clapped her hands and kissed James on the cheek.

"It's all for you, my dear," James said with complete sincerity. "I'm glad it makes you so happy."

"Oh, it does! Thank you, Jamie! This is the best present ever!"

Several feet behind them, Mirror Stan snorted, though not loud enough to be heard. He was an exact mirror image of the real Stan, so his thought process was much the same. Right now, he was thinking that he would like to kill something, namely Natasha.

"And what about this…thing?" Natasha asked, turning toward Mirror Stan. She said "thing" as though she were looking at a particularly nasty pile of poo. Mirror Stan sneered in response.

"Its power is the same as Stan's," James answered. "It can do anything he can, but it's very servile. It will do whatever I tell it."

Natasha sneered back at Mirror Stan and turned toward James. "But what happens when we don't need it anymore?"

"Well, I kind of thought we'd keep it around for a while. It'll make a good servant."

"I'd rather just get rid of it. It annoys me."

James nodded. "If that's what you want, dear."

Natasha smiled. "I do. Oh, Jamie. I'm so happy!"

As they muttered sweet nothings to each other, Mirror Stan clenched his hands into fists. _Get rid of me, will they?_ he thought. _We'll see about that!

* * *

_

"And we're supposed to find what here?" Rosalyn asked as she gazed at the pile of charred timber and stone that had once been known as the Nameless Manor, or, more recently, Ari's house.

"You tell me. It was your idea." Ari carefully stepped across a few broken 2x4's and picked something out of the rubble.

"What's that?" Rosalyn asked.

"Remember that doll that was Marlene? I think it used to be part of her dress." He tossed the burned fabric aside and picked up a brick. "Yeah, it was. Here's her head."

"This is way too creepy," Rosalyn muttered as she picked her own way across the ruin.

"You won't find what you're looking for here," said a woman's voice. Both Ari and Rosalyn whirled about to see who had spoken.

"KT?" Ari asked, slightly unsure.

"I'm glad you remember me, Ari," the woman called KT said with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" Ari asked as he made his way over to her. Rosalyn wasn't entirely certain what was going on, but she followed anyway.

"Trying to help, although there isn't much I can do, I'm afraid." KT shrugged.

"What do you mean we won't find anything here?" Rosalyn asked.

"Just what I said. What you seek, an answer, cannot be found here, or anywhere else in this world."

"Then where do we go?"

"You can't go. Only Ari can go there."

"Why only me?" Ari asked, interrupting Rosalyn, who was about to ask the same thing.

"Because of the Shadow Evil King, Stan. He could have passed there, but he isn't here. He may already be there, unable to get back."

Rosalyn held up her free hand. "Wait a minute," she said. "Back up. First of all, what does Stan have to do with Ari being able to go there? And secondly, where is 'there'?"

KT took a breath to prepare herself for a long explanation. "Evil King Stan is a creature from the Diablerie, as you must know. He is descended from Shadow Kings there. That's why he's the Shadow Evil King here. His shadow power affects things, like turning your shadow pink."

"Does the entire world know about that?" Rosalyn muttered.

KT smiled slightly, but continued as though Rosalyn hadn't spoken. "It affected your shadow, too, Ari. Just not in the same way. He was there for so long, hiding, that a little of his power leeched into you. Not much," she said quickly as Ari opened his mouth. "Not enough to use, but enough to let you go into the Shadow Lands."

"Is that where Stan is?" Ari asked.

"I don't know," KT admitted. "But you'll find some answers there."

"What is the Shadow Lands?" Rosalyn asked.

"It's the part of the Diablerie that Stan came from."

Rosalyn gasped. "You mean Ari has go into the Diablerie without me to protect him!"

"A Hero will only perish there, and very quickly, I might add. Especially you, Hero Rosalyn."

"How do I get there?" Ari asked courageously.

"You are not going!" Rosalyn exclaimed. "Stan is not worth it."

"How?" Ari persisted, ignoring her.

Amidst protests from Rosalyn, KT explained. "Near where the World Library once stood, there is a Stone Circle. I'm sure you've seen it. Pollack broke it long ago to keep any other Evil Kings from coming into this world. If you can figure out how to fix it and activate it, you can go to the Diablerie."

"It didn't work very well, did it?" Rosalyn asked sarcastically.

KT shook her head. "But it did. For three hundred years, it worked. Those demons you recently fought were already here."

"How do we fix it?" Ari asked.

"That, I don't know. You should ask the woman who stands guard on Wap-Wap."

"But the Stone Circles don't work anymore."

"There is one near here. It'll work when you approach it. Now, I must go."

"Wait!" Rosalyn shouted. KT continued walking. "How do you know all these things?" No reply came back to her. KT was gone. Rosalyn ran after her, but shortly came back. "It's like she vanished into thin air," she said, mystified.

"I'm going to Traveler's Isle," Ari announced.

"Ari, you can't just go to the Diablerie! What will your parents say?"

"Considering these are the same people who were proud of me for becoming a slave to Evil King Stan? They'll be overjoyed."

"…Okay, point taken. But what about Marlene? Is Stan really more important to you than her?"

Ari sighed and looked at the ground. Then he looked back up; a fierce light had come into his eyes. "If it weren't for Stan, Beiloune would still run this world with Classification. I would be just another one of the Ignored, and living in Triste with everyone else that no one remembered. Marlene never would have been able to stop hiding from her father. You might not have a pink shadow, but you certainly wouldn't be the Great Hero. Just another faceless member of the Hero's Club, trying and failing to be remembered and loved, just like all the others. You know, Stan might an Evil King, but he's more of hero than anyone you could pull out of that club of yours, including you."

Rosalyn just looked at Ari for several long minutes, stunned into complete silence. She couldn't think of a single thing to say except, "You're right", but that couldn't be. Evil Kings couldn't be Heroes. Could they? To admit that Stan was a hero was painful enough, but to admit that he made a better one than she did was excruciating. Finally, much subdued, she said, "So when are you leaving?"

"Now." He turned to go, but thought of something and turned. "Tell Marlene…and everyone that I'll be back soon and not to worry."

Rosalyn nodded, then did the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life: she watched Ari walk away.

* * *

No one knew who had made the Stone Circles. They were just there, and always had been. Anyone who knew how to use them could be teleported to a place called Wap-Wap, or Traveler's Isle, where they could go wherever there was another Stone Circle in the blink of an eye. Anyone using the Stone Circles could go from the Highlands to Tenel in a matter of minutes, and most of that was just walking time.

Ari and his friends had been able to use them to go back and forth from place to place while they had been fighting Beiloune, but after the battle was over, the Circles had gone dormant. Until now, that is.

As Ari got closer to Tenel's Stone Circle, located right next to the circus tent, he saw a green flash of light. KT had been right; the Circle was working again.

He found Wap-Wap unchanged. It still appeared to be located atop some foreign cliff. The blue sky all around was the same one he knew from home, and he wondered, not for the first, if this wasn't just some part of his world that he had never seen. He couldn't have, of course; even if Wap-Wap was part of his world, it was surrounded by the blue ocean.

Nearby, a woman stood gazing out across the endless sea. She didn't turn as Ari approached, but he didn't expect her to. She was a very mysterious person; she spoke as little as possible in complete monotone and seldom faced her listeners.

"Do you know how to fix the Stone Circle by the World Library?" Ari asked.

"I do, yes, but you must have a very good reason."

"I have to go to the Diablerie."

The woman said nothing for a long time. Finally, however, she sighed. "The door to the Diablerie can be opened by replacing the center stone. But it cannot remain that way."

"So after I fix it, I have to break it again?"

"There is nothing keeping the demons away otherwise. The Master is powerless to hold them at bay now."

"How do I replace the center stone?"

"You can't. Only a person with a pure heart can repair it, and only someone with a black heart can break it. When you find them, take that stone." She pointed at the stone that linked to Tenel.

"Thank you," Ari said. The woman didn't reply, but continued to gaze out into the distance.

* * *

Rosalyn was just passing the circus tents when Ari shouted. She turned a bit too quickly and fell.

"Are you okay?" Ari said as he reached her. He held out a hand to help her up.

"Yeah, just clumsy," Rosalyn chuckled. "What's wrong?"

"I need your help after all." Quickly, Ari related what the woman had told him. When he had finished, Rosalyn said, "So who do we know who's got a pure heart?"

Ari grinned. "What purer heart than a Hero's?"

Rosalyn chuckled. "Me? If you say so. I guess that means Stan has to destroy it, then."

"That's what I was thinking. If you'll help me move the stone, and then guard the Circle for me…"

"Not another word!" Rosalyn held up her fist. "As a Hero, I give you my solemn oath. You can count on me!"

Carrying Tenel's stone across Wap-Wap was a laborious process until Rosalyn figured out that she could her Great Hero power to move it with one hand. After that, everything went very smoothly. Ari hauled the broken stone away, and Rosalyn maneuvered the new one into place. Once she had moved away, it began flashing black.

"I'll be right here," Rosalyn said. "You'd better come back."

"Don't worry," Ari said with a touch more bravery than he actually felt. He grinned. "You can't get rid of me that easily." Then he stepped into the light and vanished.

"I pray you're right, Ari," Rosalyn whispered. A lonesome birdcall was her only answer.


	4. Ch4: Demons in the Darkness

The Shadow Lands were very aptly named. The world was covered in darkness and shadows. Rocks were in abundance on the grassless plain. The few trees that could be seen were dead and twisted into horrible shapes. Some appeared to be leering faces; others could be mistaken for demons reaching out to grab any passersby. As Ari walked fearfully, he saw one that he almost thought was a man impaled on a spike. The strange, dry wind that blew everything made it look like the man was still alive, slowly dying as he struggled for freedom. But it was only the grotesque shape the branches had taken.

The ground wasn't dirt. It was sand the color of granite. The wind blew grains of it into Ari's face and made his eyes sting and water, which didn't help his nerves at all. The whole place seemed to be devoid of life. He couldn't imagine Stan ever living in a place like this.

He heard a sound like air rushing behind him, and turned quickly, but there was nothing there. He loosened his sword just in case.

"That won't help you here," something whispered next to his left ear. He turned quickly, his sword before him, but there was nothing there.

"You'll see nothing," it whispered again, this time on his right. He turned again, and again there was nothing to see.

"You don't hear us," it said behind him. "You don't see us," it said in front. "There is nothing to see. You're only going mad, that's all."

"I'm not going mad," Ari protested. "I know something's there. Why don't you show yourself, or are you too scared?"

"Scared of a mortal?" it chuckled. At least, Ari thought it was a chuckle. "Why should we be scared of a mortal, and a human at that? You are nothing to us."

"So there's more than one of you? Why don't you come out then? You must be scared of me."

"Oh, we're not scared, but you will be…"

"Leave him alone!"

Ari turned, and was surprised to actually see something. It was a girl. She appeared to be about eight years old, with long blonde hair twisted into two braids on either side of her head. She wore a black dress with a white collar. Her eyes were an eerily familiar shade of yellow.

"Be gone, Delilah," the disembodied voice commanded. "This one is ours."

"I will not be gone!" she exclaimed, stomping her foot. "You be gone! Can't you see the Shadow King's mark on him?"

"We see and we ignore! The Shadow King is long dead in the mortal realms!"

"Says you! There might still be one out there somewhere! Right, boy?"

"Uh…" Ari was caught slightly unawares, but he recovered quickly. "Yeah, actually. I'm trying to find him. I was told he might be here somewhere."

"Are you his servant, boy?" Turning an interesting shade of red, Ari nodded. "Then you are my servant, too. Now, are you satisfied, Legion?"

The creature called Legion hissed and said no more.

"He's gone now," the girl said. "So you're really the servant of the Shadow King?"

Ari nodded again. "Actually, the word he uses is 'slave'."

The girl giggled. "That sounds amazing. The last Shadow King disappeared from here about three hundred years ago. I'm Delilah, by the way. What's your name?"

"Ari."

"That's a nice name. So you think the Shadow King is here somewhere? I can tell you right now that he isn't. The whole world would know if he was."

"Well, something happened to him in my world, and I was told by a woman named KT that-"

"KT!" Delilah clapped her hands over her mouth. "How do you know KT?"

"How do _you_ know KT?"

"Maybe we should sit down and talk," Delilah said. She took Ari's hand and pulled him away. "Follow me. We can talk in my house."

Delilah's house turned out to be a massive castle. Shadow creatures darted to and fro amid the corridors, often disappearing straight into the walls. Ari found himself led among them until he reached a large room decorated in shades of grey. Grey bears with too many eyes or limbs adorned a grey shelf. The walls were a very dark shade of grey at the top, but grew gradually lighter as they got closer to floor; at the bottom, they were nearly white. A grey bed with a grey quilt sat against one wall. A grey desk and chair sat across the room from it. The only spot of color was Ari himself, and Delilah's yellow hair and eyes.

"After Shadow King Stanley Trinidad XIV was taken to the mortal world by the Master, no other Shadow Kings have been born. No one really knows why. But you say, there's a Shadow King in your world?"

"Actually, my…master," Ari nearly choked on the word, but he sensed it was necessary, "_is_ Stan. Uh…Stanley Trinidad XIV."

Delilah gasped. "But that's impossible! How can it be? He should have died long ago!"

As quickly as possible, Ari explained about Stan being trapped in a bottle for three hundred years and being freed almost a year before. He omitted the part about it being his own father that freed Stan. He wasn't sure why, but something told him not to mention that part.

Delilah contemplated for a while after Ari finished his tale. From her point of view, it seemed far too fantastic to be true, but there was no other way that Ari could possibly bear the mark of a Shadow King. No Shadow King would ever lower himself to taking a human as even a concubine, let alone a wife, to continue the line in the mortal realms. And the only way there could have been no new Shadow King born here was if the old one hadn't died.

"Okay, I believe you," she said at last. "So we have to find King Stan. He's not here, though. We all would have felt it if he'd come back."

"Do you have any idea where he could be?" Ari asked. "Isn't the Diablerie more than just Shadow Lands? Could he be somewhere else?"

"If he's not in your world…Actually, if he's anywhere in the Diablerie other than the Shadow Lands, we wouldn't be able to tell. But the only place that can hold one of us is the Simulacrum."

"What's that?"

"It's sometimes called the Mirror World." She paused momentarily, but when Ari didn't recognize this name, she continued. "Basically, it's a mirror image of this world. At least, that what the Shadowle told me after he came back from there. It looked exactly like this world, only opposite. He said it was really scary."

"So Stan could be there?"

"It's the only place he could be that I can think of. Anywhere else, and he could just come right back here."

"Can you take me there?"

"No, but the Shadowle can! I can't go; I have stupid classes and stuff. But if you want to look, I'll call him for you."

"That would be great. Thanks, Delilah."

Delilah blushed and giggled. "Don't mention it."

The pair walked back through the castle, talking about inconsequential things. At some point, Delilah grabbed one of the little shadow creature and gave it some instruction, but Ari couldn't hear what. He figured she must have been telling it to find the Shadowle. That reminded him that he had no idea what a Shadowle was. He didn't wait long to find out. A human-shaped, black, mist-like thing with glowing, red eyes stood at the entrance to the castle.

"Ari, this is Drake," said Delilah. "Drake, meet Ari."

"A friend of Li's is a friend of mine," said Drake as he extended what could have been considered a hand. Ari took it and was surprised to find that it was relatively solid.

Delilah grinned. "Drake is the Shadowle I was telling you about," she informed Ari. "Drake, I need you to take Ari to the Simulacrum. There may be someone there he needs to find."

Drake bowed low. "I will do what I can, Li. But I can do no more."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bye, Ari. It was nice meeting you."

"You, too, Delilah," Ari said. He held out his hand, but Delilah ignored it. Instead, she threw herself around his middle and, standing on tiptoe, planted a kiss on his cheek. Once she had pulled away, she giggled slightly and ran.

"An odd one, Li is," Drake said in response to the uncertain look on Ari's face. "She's taking quite a liking to you. Consider yourself warned."

"Uh…right."

"This way, master," Drake said. He started walking, or rather gliding, in a northerly direction.

After a while, Ari asked, "So how far is it to the Simulacrum?"

"Not far," Drake answered. He was obviously a Shadowle of few words.

For some reason, Drake's silence made Ari very uncomfortable. Normally, Ari didn't mind the silence; in fact, there were times when he preferred it, especially when Marlene was on a rampage. But now, he was becoming increasingly nervous with each step.

"So you're a Shadowle, huh?"

Drake merely nodded. Ari decided not to try talking anymore.

After what seemed like hours, and may very well have been, Drake said, "We're here." Ari was about to respond when he realized Drake wasn't talking to him.

"At last," whispered a familiar voice.

"Legion!" Ari exclaimed. "Drake, you betrayed me?"

"Never trust a Shadowle," Drake said. "Didn't you know?"

"You will be ours, human!" Legion rasped.

Ari turned around and came face to face with a monstrous thing. All Ari had time to see were eyes and teeth, and that was enough; he started running.

"Catch him, Shadowle!" it yelled. "Don't let him reach the Simulacrum!"

Rosalyn may have stood her ground and fought, but Ari wasn't stupid. He ran harder. Behind him, Drake whooped and yelled, trying to catch up. And behind that, Legion opened all of its mouths and screamed. The sound chilled Ari to the bone and nearly paralyzed him, causing him to stumble. He recovered quickly, but it wasn't quick enough.

Drake was on top of him before he could react. He tried to push the creature away, but the only thing solid about the Shadowle now was his teeth. Ari was bleeding from a dozen different places by the time he was able to stand and run again. He swung his sword wildly and connected with something more or less solid. Drake screamed, but Ari's pause nearly caused him to be caught by Legion. Fortunately, the legion of demons was slow in this form; Ari got away, but barely.

"Shadowle!" Legion screamed. "Catch him!"

A shimmering, silver wall stood before Ari. He wasn't sure whether or not to run through it until Legion screamed again. Hands before him and eyes closed tight, Ari threw himself through the reflective barrier and into blessed quiet.

As he stood still and heaved, waiting for the pain in his side to release him, he noticed his surroundings were strangely familiar.

"How did I get back home?"


	5. Ch5: Reflections and Reunions

Ari quickly realized that he wasn't home. The world he in was a mirror image of his own.

"So Delilah was wrong," he muttered. "It's not a mirror image of the Shadow Lands; it's whatever world you happen to be from."

Nothing moved in this strange world. There were no birds, no insects. Even in winter there was something or someone on the road in Ari's world. Here, there weren't even ghosts. Ari recognized the area, though, and started walking in what he thought was the direction of Tenel. He knew he was going the right way when passed the circus tent, even though it was on the wrong side of the road.

Someone was at the tent. Ari waved and shouted a greeting, but the person, one of the acrobats, ignored him. Ari called a little louder, but he finally gave up and kept walking. He was a bit worried, however. He hadn't been completely ignored like that in a long time. People still tended to forget he was in a room and things like that, but they hadn't outright ignored him since before Beiloune had fallen, and Classification with him. Ari decided not to pursue that train of thought; if this world was a reflection of his, thinking about being one of the Ignored could be dangerous.

He didn't really expect to see Tenel intact, but afterward, he had to mentally kick himself. Of course, it would be intact; that's how he remembered it best. The same went for his house. As he walked up the steps, his feeling of intense nervousness increased about tenfold. The fountain was there, of course, but the water was frozen in place. Not ice, either. It was just stopped. Annie stood in front of it. Ari noticed right away that she didn't have a shadow; it was kind of hard to miss something so brightly colored.

"Annie?" Ari ventured. He didn't know what to expect, but he was surprised when she turned her head toward him. There was no life her eyes.

"Annie!" Ari said louder. The image of Annie merely continued to stare at him. It seemed to want to tell him something very important, but it said nothing. Ari moved into the house. The image of his father was standing in the foyer. Like Annie, his father said nothing, but merely stared. Ari walked past and up the stairs towards his and Stan's rooms.

His mother was standing outside the door to Stan's room. She turned as Ari approached; her eyes, though lifeless as the others' had been, seemed to be willing him to understand something. Although Ari was chilled to the bone, he knew where he needed to be.

"Let me in," he said hesitantly.

The Image blinked slowly and shook its head. _It will be one of us,_ it whispered into his mind.

Ari drew his sword, which seemed to startle the Image. "No!" he said vehemently. "I won't let you!"

It shuddered and took a step away. Ari raised his sword and rushed it, scaring it away completely. He sheathed his sword and put his hand on the doorknob.

Stan was looking out the window. He had been here for so long he no longer cared how long. Being in the false world of the Simulacrum was taking its toll; he was becoming less real. His shadow was very faint, and he was beginning to lose his voice.

The first sound he had heard in eternity almost didn't register. He turned as the door finally opened.

"Stan!" Ari exclaimed.

Stan cringed slightly and blinked. "You…talk?"

"Stan, it's me!" Ari pronounced excitedly. "The real me."

Stan shook his head. He seemed to be having trouble comprehending. "Ari?"

"Yeah! Your slave! Ari! Me! Are you okay?"

Stan sighed and sank to the floor. "Get…me…out of here," he said slowly. His voice was raspy and weak from disuse; he hadn't spoken in months. He was very pale, but his color and some of his old vitality came back when he realized Ari was really there.

"Come on, Stan," Ari said. He held out a hand, but Stan brushed him away.

"I'm not an invalid," Stan rasped. "I'm just not feeling well. You're carrying me out of here because I don't feel like walking." Ari smiled and held still while Stan shifted into his shadow form and took over Ari's shadow. "Now, slave!" Stan yelled as loud as his voice would let him. "Get me out of here!"

"Right away, master," Ari said with complete sincerity. Just this once, he was more than happy to play the willing servant for Stan.

* * *

Rosalyn sighed and walked around. It was well after midnight, and she was dead on her feet. If she sat down, she'd fall asleep; but if she didn't sit, she'd fall. She couldn't go to sleep. Something could come out of there at any moment.

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the black flashing of the Stone Circle grow brighter as though something had come through. She whirled around, all senses alert, but there was nothing there. She relaxed unwillingly back into her sleep-deprived, dead-tired mode.

"Come on, Rosalyn," she muttered. "Get with it here."

"Yes, Rosalyn, get with it," someone whispered.

Rosalyn whirled around, but there was no one there. "Great, now I'm hearing things."

"Yes, hearing things, that's all," whispered the voice. "You should just ignore the ramblings of your puny, mortal mind."

Rosalyn started to nod agreement, then stopped dead. Most of that, she could agree with, but she certainly wouldn't have thought "puny, mortal".

"Oh, no," she groaned. Something had come through the portal. She yanked her rapier out of its sheath. "Show yourself, you coward!" she called into the empty night air.

"A coward, are we?" whispered Legion. "Do mortals truly consider us so fearful of them? No matter." The air shimmered and a pink blob full of glowing red eyes and gaping, tooth-lined mouths appeared directly in front of Rosalyn. She screamed and jumped backward, then tripped on a rock and fell. That was probably what saved her life.

Legion shot out a tentacle that passed centimeters above Rosalyn's head as she fell. She rolled to the side and jumped to her feet while simultaneously swinging her sword toward the tentacle. She connected, but its hide was so yielding that her sword did no damage. She backed away and cautiously circled it, looking for some kind of an opening. Legion chuckled nastily, then opened its mouths and screamed. Rosalyn couldn't even think to move; all she could do was watch helplessly as Legion descended upon her.

"You will be one of us," it whispered.

"Rosalyn!" yelled Ari's voice. Somehow, that broke the spell on Rosalyn, and she was able to get away. Her body was shaking uncontrollably with fear reaction, but at least she could move again. She looked and saw Ari standing just outside the Stone Circle with Stan, in solid form, right behind him.

"Get out of here, Legion," Stan demanded. His voice was a lot better now.

"Shadow King!" it exclaimed, surprised and angered.

"That's right!" Stan agreed. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll march all yourselves right back through that portal." He smirked. "Go ahead. I won't stop you."

Legion screamed, but Stan was completely unimpressed. "Please," Stan said. "I'm in a very bad mood. Give me a reason."

It did. Legion threw itself toward Stan and Ari. Ari got out of the way, but Stan stood his ground and was engulfed. Both Ari and Rosalyn shouted, but they may as well not have. Legion's entire body convulsed and blew into hundreds of tiny shadow creatures, leaving Stan completely unscathed and looking very happy indeed. Legion swarmed around him, fleeing back into the Diablerie. Once the last of it had gone, Stan put his hands on the stone. It flashed brightly for an instant; the sound of rock breaking under tremendous pressure echoed across the hills, and the top half of the stone slid to the ground. The door was closed again.

Rosalyn sank to the ground. "What was that?"

"Legion," Stan answered nonchalantly as he brushed dust off his hands.. "It doesn't like humans very much."

"I'll say." She was still shaking, but she stood up again.

Stan noticed this and chuckled. "Don't worry; it's a perfectly normal reaction. For a weak, human female."

"Weak!" Rosalyn yelled. She wasn't shaking anymore, nor was she falling asleep. "I'll show you weak!" She still had her rapier in her hand, so she pointed it at Stan's throat. He didn't react except to smirk. "You're flesh this time," Rosalyn pointed out. "I can run you through now!"

"Then who'll fix your shadow?" Stan asked reasonably. Before Rosalyn could react to his logic, something thumped. Ari had fainted.

Rosalyn rushed to his side, Stan a heartbeat behind. "Ari!" Rosalyn exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"These look like Shadowle bites," Stan said. "Damn it! He even told me he'd gotten bit, too! Help me get him to the village."

* * *

The Highlands village was a quiet little place. They had never had anything to do with Evil Kings and such until Beiloune created the Vampire Evil King and placed him there to stop Stan from getting to the World Library. After his defeat there, the simple villagers resumed their normal, boring lives. Nothing ever happened there, which is why two people running frantically toward the inn carrying a third, obviously injured person almost didn't register.

Rosalyn beat on the door of the inn; it was getting close to dawn, but it was still too early for the inn to open. She hammered on the door and shouted, but it seemed the innkeeper was ignoring them. The few people out and about this early, or possibly this late, watched them with a dulled expression of mild confusion.

"Stand back," said Stan as he readied an energy bolt.

"You can't just blow up the door!" Rosalyn protested.

"Watch me!"

Luckily for the inn, the owner took that moment to open the door. Stan recalled his shot and banished it, although he regretted doing so very quickly.

"The inn is closed!" the man gruffly.

"Please! Our friend is injured!" Rosalyn explained.

"The inn is closed," he said. "You'll have to take him somewhere else."

"But, sir-"

"Out of the way, geezer!" Stan said, hoisting Ari over his shoulder and shoving his way into the door. He kicked open the first door he came to and shouted, "Clear out!" A very confused and frightened couple rushed out the door wearing nothing but a sheet between them.

Rosalyn muttered something, torn between respect for Stan for just getting the job done and annoyance at the manner in which he was doing it. "I'm really sorry about this," she told the couple. "Our friend is injured and poisoned, and Stan is being extremely overzealous, not that I blame him, I mean Ari could die any minute…" She knew she was babbling, but the couple seemed to calm down, and the woman even offered her sympathies.

"Get in here, woman!" Stan roared.

"Oh, all right, already!" Rosalyn yelled back. "I'm really, really sorry about this," she said one last time to everyone who had opened their doors and peaked out to see what was going on. She backed through the door still apologizing. Once she had gotten through and shut it, she whirled on Stan. "You know, there are other ways to get things done."

"None that would have been fast enough," Stan countered. "Now get over here and help me."

"What do I have to do?"

"Just heal him while I burn out the poison."

Rosalyn raised her eyebrows. "Come again?"

Stan had, up to this point, been checking the worst of the bites and watching Ari's breathing to make sure the poison hadn't made it to his lungs yet. Now, he looked up at Rosalyn with a strange mixture of expressions, not the least of which was extreme annoyance. "You're the Great Hero. Don't you know how to use your power?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Then get over here and help me!" He jerked her parasol away and grabbed her hands.

Rosalyn nearly yanked them back, but she knew Stan was only trying to save Ari for whatever reason was going through his head. She cleared her throat and said, "Okay, now what?"

"Just hold them here," he answered, placing both her hands over Ari's chest. "And concentrate on him being well. Close your eyes, if it helps."

She did as she was told. Although she was very leery to trust Stan, he seemed relatively sincere. She felt Stan's power mingle with hers, then, and an involuntary shiver went down her spine. It was very dark, very cold, and very old.

She didn't have time to think much after that, but she couldn't help but wonder why someone so evil and uncaring would go to these lengths to save a mere servant.

* * *

Ari burned from the inside out. He felt like his head would explode any second. Sickening shades of green, red, and yellow swirled behind his closed eyelids. He knew he had fallen when fire suddenly overwhelmed him. From there, the pain grew gradually worse.

The colors were replaced by a chilling darkness that made him want to run away, but he couldn't move. He watched helplessly as Legion reared up before him and engulfed him, and then he was spiraling downwards into an endless void. His throat burned as he tried to shout, but no sound came. Demons laughed as he struggled to do something, anything. They mocked his attempts to break free.

The colors came back, then, but they were all around him, spinning faster and faster. He wanted to scream, to cry, to laugh, anything. Anything to make noise; anything to move, even if it was only a finger.

Suddenly, he felt himself engulfed in a warm, white light. The color gave way to darkness; the demons screamed their anger, but were forced to fall silent. The burning subsided to a bearable level, then it was gone.

Ari opened his eyes ever so slightly to see both Stan and Rosalyn hovering over him. Stan was holding Rosalyn's hands, and a grayish glow was surrounding them. Rosalyn's eyes were closed, and she didn't move; Stan, however, had his eyes open, and he tilted his head slightly to give Ari a look of warning that said as plainly as if he had spoken, "Not a word!"

Ari smiled slightly and closed his eyes again. This time, he fell asleep.

* * *

Rosalyn had a feeling. She couldn't really describe it, it was just this really creepy feeling, and she knew it had something to do with Stan. Even once it had left her, she felt very cold. Somehow, she knew this was a feeling that would never leave her.

She opened her eyes and looked around. Her head hurt when she moved it, and several joints pooped. "How long have we been here?" she asked. It hadn't seemed that long.

"About an hour, I'd say," Stan said casually. He stood and stretched.

"Are you kidding?" Rosalyn said dubiously as she followed suit. Despite her muscles chorusing agreement to this statement, she didn't want to believe it.

"You were in a trance." Stan chuckled malevolently. "You're just lucky I was more interested in keeping my slave alive than killing you. I could have done it, and you wouldn't have known a thing."

"Oh, shut up!" Rosalyn said.

Stan shushed her. "He needs to rest," he said, gesturing towards Ari. "He can't do that with you running your big mouth."

Rosalyn opened her mouth to say something, but she choked it back with some difficulty. Much as she hated to admit it, Stan was right; Ari needed to sleep. In a much quieter tone, she said, "Not that I'm not grateful for your help…"

"Which you're not," Stan muttered.

Rosalyn took a deep breath and continued. "But why did you want to save Ari?"

"What? You think I'm completely heartless? Don't answer that. If you must know, he's the only slave I've got left. Unless you'd like the position…?"

Rosalyn just scoffed at him.

Stan shrugged. "Good, because I wouldn't have accepted. Who wants an inept, sorry excuse for a pink porker Hero as his slave, anyway?"

Rosalyn got about halfway through the word "why" before she managed to silence herself. Stan was baiting her simply so that he could tell her off again, and she wasn't going to let him. Instead, she turned her back to look out the window, and resolved not to listen to another word he had to say.

Her resolve lasted until his next comment.

* * *

Several people had gathered outside the room Stan had claimed. A few of them were nice enough to donate some clothing to the evicted newlyweds, and now, everybody was talking to them. They all wanted to know what was going on, and the poor couple had no answers, except to say that someone was hurt.

Suddenly, they heard a shout and just managed to get out of the way as something came crashing through the door, was flung against the wall, and fell to the floor amid a chorus of screams and moans. Stan slowly picked himself up and rubbed the back of his head before looking back through the door. Rosalyn was standing with her arms folded, her feet slightly apart, and wearing a very satisfied expression. Ari slept through the whole thing.


	6. Ch6: Fires and Ruins

The sound of shouting intruded upon Ari's limbo, and he pushed it away. After a while, it came back; this time, it was accompanied by a pounding noise. Again, Ari ignored it and went back to sleep. Finally, however, sleep threw him out and back into the world of being awake.

When he opened his eyes, it was very dark. He sat up slowly, but his head didn't hurt like he thought would. All around him, the shadows played tricks on his mind. A weird shaped lump in one corner could only have been Drake coming back to finish the job; then it moved slightly, and Ari realized it was only the sleeping form of Rosalyn. He found Stan on the other side of the room, as far from Rosalyn as he could get without actually leaving the room. A shadow moved, making Ari jump, but it was only the curtain rustling slightly. Still unnerved, Ari laid back down, but sleep wouldn't come again.

Finally, an extremely bored Ari got out of bed and walked to the window. As he stood there, trying to piece together what he could remember, he noticed something flash on the horizon. The flash was followed by a booming noise that sent both Rosalyn and Stan stumbling to their feet and demanding answers. "Guys, look!" Ari said, interrupting what might have become a major battle, considering the current mentality of his two comrades.

Rosalyn gasped. "I don't believe it," she muttered. "They're attacking Triste…"

As the reality of this sank in, Ari shouted, "Mom and dad!" He turned to run out the door, but crashed headlong into Stan's arm.

"Not so fast," Stan said. "Stay. You're in no position to go anywhere."

"But my parents are there!" Ari argued. "And Annie, and Marlene!"

Stan muttered something to the effect of, "So what's your point?", but he was drowned out by Rosalyn, who said, "Don't worry, Ari. You rest. I'll save everybody."

"You couldn't save yourself from a dead snail," Stan scoffed.

"Well, at least I'm doing more than you!"

Ari took the opportunity awarded by their argument to sneak around Stan and rush out the door.

Stan opened his mouth to reply to some inane comment, then shut it again and looked around in puzzlement. He cussed and charged out after Ari. Fortunately for her dignity, Rosalyn realized what was amiss rather quickly and ran out hot on his heels.

By the time the three of them were able to reach Triste, it was past dawn, and the city was in ruins. A few people wandered around aimlessly or sifted through rubble to find anything that had been spared destruction. Several of the buildings were still burning, and the smoke and soot that emanated from the fires coated everything, making breathing difficult and seeing only slightly less so.

Rosalyn said nothing; she simply started helping to rescue people that had been trapped. Ari set about looking for his family. Stan looked around, very impressed at the level of destruction; then, at fairly loose ends, he followed Ari.

"Excuse me," Ari said to an old woman. "I'm looking for someone…"

"All gone…" the woman was muttering. "Just came and…it was all gone…"

"Ma'am?" Ari tried again. "Can you help me?" The woman just continued to mutter.

"Hey, there he is!" someone shouted, pointing at Stan.

"Get him!" someone else yelled. Within minutes, a full-fledged angry mob had formed, complete with torches and pitchforks.

"Now, wait a minute-" Stan began, but he was interrupted by Rosalyn.

"Wait, everyone!" she was shouting. "Let me handle this! I'm a Hero!"

The mob made a few more half-hearted shouts, but they didn't really want to take on an Evil King by themselves and were more than happy to let Rosalyn do it. She drew her rapier and faced Stan. "All right, Evil King!" she yelled. "Prepare to meet your doom!" Then she winked.

Stan smirked right back. "We'll see, Hero," he sneered. He gathered energy to his right hand and forced it into a sword-like shape. "En garde!"

The two met in a shower of sparks, mainly courtesy of Stan's weapon, then jumped back and circled each other warily. The angry mob thinned somewhat, and everyone backed as far away as they could get and still see the action. Several people cheered for Rosalyn, and a few of the more courageous booed Stan. Stan answered this by sending a few shots wildly into the crowd; fortunately, no one was hit. No one booed again, either.

As the two continued to fight, Ari felt a touch on his arm and turned. "Marlene!" he exclaimed.

Marlene nodded. "We're all okay. What's going on? I thought Stan already left."

"That wasn't really Stan." Ari tried to explain what he had learned, but he figured Stan would have to do it again later. "So where's everyone else?" he asked once he had finished.

Marlene pointed toward what was left of the train station, and they started to head that way. One of Stan's shots went wide and crashed to the ground right in front of them. Once it had dissipated, they quickly moved farther away.

Rosalyn jumped back as Stan swung his energy sword at her, then charged forward and locked blades with him. "You're supposed to be losing," she hissed.

"But why?" Stan answered with a smirk. "Winning is so much more gratifying." With that, he forced energy through his weapon and into Rosalyn's; it knocked her backwards several feet when it exploded. She jumped to her feet and nearly fell again as pain shot though her leg. She tried to cover her limp, but to no avail.

"Oh, did the poor Hero woman hurt herself?" Stan said in a sickeningly babyish tone.

"Oh, shut up!" Rosalyn yelled. Prior to this, she had been holding back somewhat. She wasn't anymore. She wasn't very good at healing during a battle, but she managed to restore her leg to the point that she could walk on it before she had to dodge Stan's next attack. She jumped away and rolled, then swung her rapier and caught Stan across the arm; it might have bit considerably deeper if she hadn't remembered at the last second that Stan was something resembling an ally.

Stan stopped and held his hand over his injured arm. Suddenly, he smiled. "So, the toothless old dog does have a bite. I guess that wasn't just a one time thing after all," he said, referring to the day before when she had sent him crashing through the door of the inn.

Rosalyn shook her head and sighed. "En garde, Stanley," she said mockingly as she charged him. Another frenzied bout of swordplay followed, during which both combatants were injured, and several bystanders discovered a new love for life as they just barely managed to get out of the way. Finally seeming to understand that retreat was a good idea, everyone scattered to view the fight from a vantage that wouldn't get them killed.

"Oh, would you just hurry up and lose?" Stan demanded as they locked weapons again. "I'm getting bored."

"I'll lose on purpose the day you turn good," Rosalyn shot back.

Stan rolled his eyes. "I'll turn good the day you turn bad."

"Like that'll ever happen."

"Exactly."

They broke apart again and circled each other. Both of them were using this as an excuse to catch their breath, although neither would have admitted this in the presence of the other.

"Why don't you just give up and admit that you're outclassed?" Stan sneered.

"Why don't you grow a brain?" Rosalyn asked with mock curiosity.

"Obviously, an ignorant cow such as yourself could never be expected to fully comprehend the greatness that is moi, Evil King Stan!"

"You mean the great stupid-ness, don't you?"

Stan snarled something that shouldn't be repeated and started shooting one energy shot after another at Rosalyn as she jumped and dodged. He didn't seem to notice that she was working her way closer to him until she was top of him. She stabbed his arm with her rapier; at least, she thought she did, but he clutched at his heart and staggered backwards, moaning.

"Oh no!" he wailed. "How could I, the Great Evil King, be defeated by such a pork loin like you? Oh, woe is me!" He fell to the ground and vanished in a shadowy black smoke.

Rosalyn stood where she was for several seconds trying to figure out what had just happened. She didn't think she had killed him. Her thoughts were interrupted by the cheering mass as they swarmed around her shouting praises, and she decided to figure it out later.

* * *

"Did Stan just lose?" Annie muttered to Ari.

"Looks like it," he answered, almost as stunned as Rosalyn.

"On purpose?"

Ari shrugged.

Ari's parents finally broke the reverie. "Come on," exclaimed Ari's dad. "Let's join the festivities!" He dragged Ari's mother, giggling, into the crowd.

"These people certainly have little enough to celebrate, now," Marlene said sagely. "I'm sure Stan is just hiding somewhere. Come along, Ari."

The festivities didn't go on for very long. There were still fires to put out and people to rescue; the townsfolk had taken enough time off to watch the battle. Ari sent Marlene and Annie to help his parents with whatever they were doing, and searched out Rosalyn. He found her, parasol set aside for the moment, already half buried headfirst in a hole.

"Give me a hand," she yelled to two men who were standing nearby. They pulled her out; she had a child in her arms. The little girl was so covered in mud that Ari couldn't discern any particular features. She was sniffling, but not crying yet, and she clutched a torn and filthy teddy bear in her small hands.

Rosalyn spied Ari and motioned him closer. "Honey, this is a friend of mine," she told the little girl. "He's going to help you, okay?"

"Hey, there," Ari said sweetly, taking her free hand. "My name's Ari. What's yours?" The little girl hid her face behind her bear.

"Take her to your parents," Rosalyn said. "I think I heard they're over by the train station."

"Yeah, I found them," Ari agreed. He gently tugged the little girl's arm and they set off.

His parents, as it turned out, were busy helping to get people cleaned up and trying to reunite family members. The train station had been hit badly, but it was a resilient old building. Most of the roof was still relatively in tact, and the plumbing hadn't been damaged in the least. Ari's family had set up shop there to take advantage of all that. The townsfolk who weren't helping or standing around in shock were gathered there.

Ari had no sooner stepped in the door than someone shouted, "Kari!"

The little girl pulled her hand free and rushed toward her mother and father, crying. They cried, too, and hugged her, saying nonsensical things that seemed to make sense to them. "Thank you so much for finding her," the man said to Ari.

"We were so worried," the woman continued.

Ari shrugged. "Actually, Rosalyn's the one who saved her. I'll give her your thanks, though."

They nodded and went back to celebrating the reunification of their family.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" said a voice.

Ari turned and exclaimed, "KT! I didn't realize you were here."

KT smiled. "Triste will always be my home. I see you found Stan."

"He was in a place called the Simulacrum."

KT gasped. "You can reach the mirror world from the Diablerie? This is not good."

"How do you know about it?" Ari demanded.

KT shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't say anything else. I have to go tell…" She trailed off. She clearly didn't mean to have said so much.

"Who? Tell who?"

"I'm sorry." KT turned away and was quickly lost in the crowd. Ari looked for her, but he finally gave up and went back to helping everyone. He suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to ask Delilah what she knew, but it was a little late for that now.


	7. Ch7: Back to the Offices of Mr Big Inc

Several hours later, Ari and Rosalyn had done all they could do, so they left for Madril. Rosalyn had gotten the idea that Mr. Big would know something. "But what about Stan?" Ari was saying.

"If he wants to catch up, he will," Rosalyn answered.

Ari saw KT again, manning the gate, as usual; he didn't try to talk to her. She smiled encouragingly as she let them out. "I'm wondering about KT," Ari muttered to Rosalyn. He told her about their encounter.

"I'm sure it's nothing bad," Rosalyn said when he had finished. "Maybe she's just a magical, mysterious woman, like the woman at Traveler's Isle."

Ari admitted that this might be so.

"Took you long enough," said a voice suddenly. "It's freezing out here." Ari turned, but Rosalyn didn't bother. She just sighed.

"Darn it," she muttered.

Stan was leaning against a nearby tree with his arms folded before him. "Thinking of leaving me behind?"

"One could only hope," Rosalyn returned.

Before Stan could respond and start yet another argument, Ari asked, "What happened back there? Where've you been?"

Stan shrugged. "I got bored, so I came out here. I didn't go back because I didn't feel like a repeat performance of that little…spectacle."

"So I beat you that bad, huh?" Rosalyn said, not bothering to hide a grin.

Stan glared at her, but chose not to dignify that remark with a response. "So where to?"

"To defeat James and his you imposter," Rosalyn answered, going into business mode. "I think Mr. Big might be able to help us figure out where they're going next."

Stan's eyes darkened at the mention of his imposter. "Sounds like a good plan to me," he said. He suddenly seemed extremely dangerous. Rosalyn had to repress a chill as she remembered what his power had felt like.

Ari realized that he had only seen that look on Stan's face once before, and that was when Beiloune had forced him to fight Rosalyn. It was an expression filled with hatred and malevolence. Stan never looked like that at Rosalyn, normally, or Marlene, both of whom he professed to hate beyond all measure. It was a great shock to see him like this, and very frightening.

* * *

"He's back," Natasha said angrily. "You said he wouldn't be able to get back, Jamie."

"Now, don't worry, dear," James responded, trying to sooth her. "He won't be able to stop us."

"Promise me, Jamie. Promise he won't be able to."

James nodded. He'd do anything for Natasha. "I promise, my dear. Stan will never be able to stop us, and neither will anyone else. I have a plan."

Mirror Stan leaned against a tree. Since coming to this world, he'd been used, abused, and used some more. He wanted so badly to simply blow his would-be masters sky high, but he was still under James' control. He smiled slightly. _Soon,_ he thought. _Soon I'll have my revenge for this travesty. How sweet it will be…_

* * *

Madril hadn't changed much since they left, except to add more people. A fine mist was all that remained of the last storm, but the sky threatened to open up and dump a deluge on the already waterlogged townsfolk at any moment. The Town Hall had been turned into a temporary shelter for the people of Rashelo. The Mayor of the city was arguing with the manager of the hotel about moving them all. It didn't appear to be going his way.

People wearing raincoats and carrying umbrellas were bustling here and there, going about their business as though nothing in the world was wrong. It was strange, watching them try to delude themselves in this manner. But what else could they do, when there was nothing they could do?

Mr. Big Inc. was a flurry of frenzied activity. Humans and ghosts that wore human shape ran around the lobby and up and down the stairs like they were on fire. There was so much noise that no one could hear himself think. Rosalyn and Ari, with Stan hiding in Ari's shadow, approached the front desk.

"We need to see Mr. Big," Rosalyn attempted to yell over the din.

"He's in a meeting right now," the secretary on duty responded. "If you could come back tomorrow…"

"There may not be a tomorrow if Madril gets attacked," Rosalyn argued.

"I'm really sorry, but he's going to be in meetings for the rest of the day. Either come back tomorrow, or forget it."

Rosalyn grumbled and walked away.

"You give up too easily," Stan said without bothering to show himself.

"Be quiet, Stan," Rosalyn hissed. "Someone might hear you!"

"Over this noise? Please."

Rosalyn led them out the door and around the corner where no one could see them. "So now what do we do?"

Stan popped up, then. "Isn't it obvious? We go back in there and crash the meeting."

"We can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because that wouldn't be right!"

"And your point is what?"

Rosalyn started to respond, then decided against it; it was no use arguing morals with an Evil King. Instead, she looked up toward Mr. Big's office as though the answer might reveal itself if she stared hard enough.

"I still say we just bust in," Stan muttered.

"Well, we're not going to, all right?"

"Actually," Ari began. "What if Mr. Big knows where James is going next? What if something is going to be attacked tomorrow? Wouldn't it be wrong not to go in there and find out right now? I mean…If we don't do whatever we can to find out, then if somewhere else gets destroyed, isn't it our fault?"

Rosalyn was silent. On the one hand, Ari was right. On the other hand…Ari was right. She happened to notice that Stan was pointedly not paying her the least bit of attention. Finally, she said, "This is against my better judgment, you understand."

Stan laughed. "All right! Let's go blow something up!"

"We are not destroying anything…!" Rosalyn said futilely; Stan was not listening.

Going back into the din was something of a shock after the quiet of outside, but Ari didn't stop, and neither did Rosalyn. They elbowed their way through the press of bodies, fought their way up the stairs, and finally got stopped by Mr. Big's doorman.

"You can't go in," said the doorman.

"We have to see Mr. Big right now," Rosalyn tried to explain.

"I don't care what you have to do," the doorman answered scathingly. "Nobody goes through this door until the Boss gives the okay."

Stan popped up, then, and shouted, "Damn you! Let us in right now, or I will blow you and this door into next Tuesday!"

The doorman scoffed. "On a scale of one to ten, that death threat rated about –8."

"Why you-!" Stan's eyes flashed with anger. He hadn't gotten good and angry in while, and it felt pretty good to do so, now.

Privately, Rosalyn agreed wholeheartedly. It would have been really nice to wipe the smirk off this guy's face, but Heroes didn't do things like that. Evil Kings on the other hand…

"Stan, go for it," she said, stepping out of the way.

Stan stopped and looked at her. Of all the things she could have said, that was not one he expected. "What?" he said dumbly.

"Go for it!" she answered brightly. "Take him out. I'll even stand here and let you."

Stan gave her a very wary look, expecting some sort of trick. But she appeared to be completely sincere. He chuckled. "I don't know whether you've gone nuts, or you just realized how much more fun it is to be evil, and I don't care." He turned his attention back to the doorman and laughed maliciously as he gathered energy to his hands. "Prepare to meet your maker, human."

"Uh…" The doorman appeared to realize finally that he was in real, imminent danger. He suddenly remembered an urgent dental appointment and ran past them and down the stairs.

"Damn," Stan said. "Oh, well. I'll just blow up the door anyway."

"Oh, no you don't!" Rosalyn exclaimed. "He's gone! Just let it go."

"I knew it was too good to be true," Stan muttered as he banished the energy he had gathered.

Rosalyn knocked on the door; it was answered by yet another doorman. "The Boss is in a meeting," he said. "Go away."

"But we have to see Mr. Big," Rosalyn said, beginning to despair of ever getting inside.

"Let us in, you sorry excuse for a simian's-"

"Stanley!" Rosalyn yelled. "Shut up!"

"Is that Rosalyn I hear?" Mr. Big's voice said from within the office.

"Yes, it's me and Ari," Rosalyn answered before the doorman could. Stan grumbled, but didn't debate her exclusion of him.

"Well, don't just stand there, come in! You, wait outside." The last bit was said to the doorman. He complied, but grumbled and glared at the trio.

The office had become considerably more cluttered since the last time they had been there. Papers were stacked on every available surface, including the floor. The desk was as neat as it ever was, however. A small, black, bat-like creature sat on top of it, yawning.

"Come in, come in. Don't mind the clutter. Glad to see you back, King Stan."

"What is all this?" Stan asked, looking around.

"Orders to desist, orders to stay out of Town Hall, orders to vacate the premises, restraining orders, bills…" Mr. Big gestured toward several stacks in turn, then shrugged. "Nothing of importance. So things went well for you at Triste, I guess. How are things there?"

Before anyone could answer, the bat thing squeaked.

"Can't you wait five minutes?" Mr. Big demanded. The thing squeaked again, louder. Mr. Big sighed. "Good help is so hard to find these days."

"Here, here," Stan agreed.

"What is it?" Ari asked, choosing to ignore the imnplication.

Stan answered. "It's an imp. They make good spies because they can get anywhere."

Mr. Big nodded. "Yes, and what makes a good spy makes a good reporter. This little one just happened to be watching Triste when it noticed that James fellow and some girl chatting about going to the World Library."

"What?" Stan and Rosalyn exclaimed together.

"The World Library!" Rosalyn went on. "What are they going to do?"

The imp squeaked, whistled, and chattered for a long time while Stan and Mr. Big listened intently. When it had finished, Stan roared, "Damn him! When I get my hands on him, I'll tear him limb from limb!" His eyes flashed and he shook with rage.

"What did it say?" Ari asked.

"It said they said they're coming to Madril to find something," Mr. Big answered. "They seemed really excited about that. Then, they're going to the World Library to find some sort of power. The only thing I can think of is that they want to reinstate Classification."

"Oh, this isn't good," Rosalyn moaned. "We have to stop them."

"That Natasha," Stan said through clenched teeth. "This is all her fault! If it wasn't for her, this never would have happened. She's manipulating James somehow…"

"They're coming back here, first," Mr. Big said. "You might as well wait for them."

Rosalyn thanked him for his time and information, and the party headed for the hotel.


	8. Ch8: Imps and Evil Shenanigans

It was raining again, but Mirror Stan hardly noticed. He was too busy being violently ill. James and Natasha were at it again, smooching and professing their love for each other. _It's enough to make an honest Evil King sick…_ he thought.

He bowed his head. _But I'm not an Evil King, _he remembered. _Or am I? I'm the mirror image of one, so why can't I be? Yeah, the Mirror Evil King. I like the sound of that. And just as soon as he screws up, and I get free, I'm going to blow them off the face of the planet…_

He shivered slightly with the urge to do just that; every fiber of his being was commanding him to destroy them, and he couldn't do a thing. He turned around in the hopes that it would ease somewhat. It didn't help until he saw the imp hanging upside down in a nearby tree, contriving to look very bat-like.

Mirror Stan looked around quickly to make sure James and Natasha were still preoccupied with each other. They were. He turned back to the imp, held up three fingers, and pointed in the direction of Madril. Then he drew a square on the palm of one hand and pointed to the ground.

The imp jumped slightly and quietly flapped over to his shoulder. It squeaked a question, and Mirror Stan nodded. It squeaked a second time, and he held up two fingers. It squeaked one last time, but Mirror Stan shook his head. The imp nodded and quickly flapped away.

It only took an hour to reach Madril by air; the same trip would take a day on foot, but the imp was moving as fast as its wings could carry it. It flapped in through an upper window of the hotel and crash landed on the bed.

Rosalyn jumped and squealed as it tumbled to a stop against her leg. "Oh, is it an imp, again?" she asked, somewhat breathless.

"No, it's a flying cow," Stan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He moved closer to it.

The little imp heaved and panted. It chattered something between breathes.

"Slave, get it something to drink," Stan commanded, stepping easily into the roll of translator.

Ari did as he told without question, pouring a shot glass full of water for the tiny creature. It grasped the glass and squeaked it thanks, then spent several seconds restoring its hydration. It spent several more seconds catching its breath while its audience waited with varying degrees of patience. Finally, it began chittering and squawking.

"It says it met my imposter," Stan translated. "It says he doesn't seem to like James or Natasha. Not that I blame him. He said something about being here in three days or so, and something about a magic square. Oh, no…"

"The magic square in Madril's sewers," Ari groaned.

"Of course!" Rosalyn exclaimed. "That's why they'd be coming here. It makes perfect sense. I had completely forgotten about that thing."

"Wish I could," Ari muttered.

"But does it still work?" Rosalyn asked. "I mean, after…you know…the last time…" For some reason, Rosalyn was hesitant to speak of Ari's time as one of the Ignored.

"That's a very good question," Stan answered. He grinned. "Let's go find out!"

"No!" Ari almost shouted. He wanted nothing to do with that thing ever again.

Stan chuckled. "Whatever."

The imp, having completely recovered, squeaked its goodbyes and flew out the window. As she watched it go, Rosalyn mused, "I wonder why they're going to wait so long before they show up?"

Ari shrugged. "Who knows? At least, we know we have a little time."

"Oh, yes, wonderful," Stan said dryly. "Time to sit around and do nothing except wait."

"We can help people," Rosalyn pointed out. Stan raised an eyebrow and just looked at her without saying anything. "Well, Ari and I can, anyway. You could, too, if you weren't so pigheaded."

Stan snorted. "Pigheadedness has nothing to with it. Besides, you're the one with the pig's head."

"You take that back right now!" Rosalyn exclaimed loudly.

"Hey, can you keep it down over there?" shouted a muffled voice from somewhere around them.

"Put a sock in it, you neutered primate!" Stan yelled back.

"Stanley, shut up," Rosalyn yelled at him.

"I'm a what?" came the disembodied voice from beyond one of the walls.

"You heard me," Stan roared. "Now, shut up before I send you to the hospital!"

"Stanley!"

There was a stomping noise, then the sound of a door being slammed open, and suddenly, someone was banging on the door. "Come out here and get some, you freak!" shouted their disgruntled neighbor.

"Stan, no!" Rosalyn said. She tried to grab his arm and keep him in the room, but he managed to shake her off. He pulled the door open and stepped out, pulling it shut behind him. There was a slam and a muffled curse, then a pounding noise that rapidly grew softer. Stan walked back inside the room.

"It's nice to be feared," he said happily.

"Stan, what did you do?" Rosalyn demanded.

Stan sighed with exasperation. "I didn't hurt him. I just grabbed him and slammed him against the wall. Then he ran away."

"You are so stupid!" Rosalyn yelled. "What if he calls the Hero's Club, huh? What about me, being seen here with you?"

"You've been seen with me before," Stan laughed. "And if he calls the Hero's Club, I'll just have a little fun with them."

"You'd better get ready, then," Ari said. He was standing at the window. "They're coming out the Town Hall now and heading this way."

"Oh, no…" Rosalyn clutched her head. "Now, what? What am I supposed to do, now? Oh, this is bad…"

"Oh, stop gibbering," Stan said scornfully. "You're giving me a headache."

"Oh, shut up, Stanley! This is easy for you. You don't have to worry about being kicked out of the Hero's Club. All you have to worry about is which attack will do the most damage."

"That's a tough decision to make," Stan defended himself. Rosalyn glared at him.

"They're entering the building now, guys," Ari informed them.

"Ohnoohnoohno…" Rosalyn moaned.

"You could always go out the window," Stan pointed out.

Rosalyn brightened considerably. "Wait! I've got an idea. You go out the window! That way no one will know you're here!"

"Except the guy I pummeled…" Stan murmured.

"I've got a better idea," said Ari.

* * *

"It was this room, right here," said the young muscle head. Despite Stan's protests that he hadn't hurt the guy, he had. The young man was sporting two black eyes, a bleeding, broken nose, and a minor concussion on the back of his head. He had only come along to point out the room. Now, two Heroes took him away for some better medical treatment than a rag to staunch the blood. The remaining Heroes nodded to each other and, on the count of three, kicked open the door.

"What is going on here?" Rosalyn demanded, jumping to her feet from where she had been attempting to sit nonchalantly on the bed.

"Uh…" The Heroes looked around, but could see no Evil King anywhere. One of them stammered, "We're…uh…we were told….that is…"

A second one, one of Rosalyn's fans, saluted and said smartly, "Hero Rosalyn! We were told there was a criminal assailant in this room, but obviously that can't be so."

"Obviously," Rosalyn agreed. She was a little pale and shaky; fortunately, the Heroes mistook her nervousness for great anger.

The unofficial spokesman saluted again and said, "Well, we'll just be leaving then. Sorry to have troubled you." They backed out and closed the door. It now required being slammed to make it latch, but they finally succeeded.

Rosalyn heaved a sigh of relief and sank down on the bed. "Oh, good. They didn't suspect a thing." There was a time when deceiving her fellow Heroes would have made her feel guilty. Now, all she felt was relief that they hadn't caught on. She wondered if she'd been hanging around Stan for too long, but quickly pushed the thought away.

"Slave," Stan said approving. "You have this certain knack for being completely invisible when you want to be."

Ari wasn't sure whether or not to take that as a compliment, but he said thanks anyway.

"Okay, it's time for bed before anything else happens tonight," Rosalyn said, sighing heavily.

"Sleep is for the weak," Stan said.

Rosalyn started to answer him, then changed her mind. She grinned and shut off the light, effectively trapping Stan inside Ari's now non-existent shadow until the lights came back on.

* * *

A light played across the backs of Rosalyn's eyelids, waking her. She spent several moments trying to make it go away before she realized it was the sun shining through a window and onto her face. She sighed slightly and rolled over, not yet ready to give up the only real peace she'd had since Ari found Stan. Something tickled the back of her mind at the thought of that name; some sense that all was not right…something about Stan and the light…She decided to ignore it and went back to sleep.

Suddenly, she found herself tumbling through the air; her squeal of surprise turned into a loud "oomph" as the breath was forced out of her lugs by the hard, unyielding surface she fell onto. Before she could react in any way, something heavy fell on top of her, momentarily pinning her to the floor. As she lay there trying to clear her sleep-fogged mind enough to figure out what had just happened, she heard the sound of someone howling with laughter.

With some difficulty, Rosalyn managed to fight her way out from under the mattress. She faced Stan and put her hands on her hips. "Very funny," she said angrily.

Stan, still laughing, nodded. Once he could speak, he said, "Revenge is so sweet."

Rosalyn sighed; she was still too tired to argue with him. She toyed with the notion of picking up her parasol, then decided not to. Stan didn't tease her about her shadow as long as she didn't draw attention to it. Something was still nagging at the back of her mind. She looked around the room, pointedly ignoring Stan, who was still chuckling. "Where's Ari?" she asked, finally pinpointing the problem.

"I sent him for breakfast, so he wouldn't be able to wake you up and ruin my plan," Stan answered.

"Oh, great," Rosalyn moaned. "Alone in here…with you…"

"Time was, women would have killed to be in your position," Stan said wistfully. "Literally. Being an Evil King was a very prestigious thing three hundred years ago."

Rosalyn was suddenly very interested; Stan never talked about what things were like back then. "Are you joking?" she asked dubiously.

Stan shook his head. "You wish I was. Being an Evil King was more important than being the human King. We got more press time than Heroes."

"You are lying to me," Rosalyn said.

"Usually," Stan agreed, grinning. "But not right now. Nobody cared much about Heroes, until Hopkins defeated Gohma."

Rosalyn still didn't really believe Stan, but his story had credence. It certainly seemed that no Hero had been half as important as Hopkins. The only deeds that were chronicled were their defeats of the Evil Kings; it was almost like they hadn't done anything else. "But why?" she asked.

"They weren't as important," Stan answered. "They defeated us and brought peace to the land, but that was what always happened, and no one cared after a while. Heroes never really helped people for some reason. They left that job to the local militias."

Rosalyn creased her forehead and shook her head. "So what changed? Why did Hero Hopkins suddenly get so much glory?"

"Because, for the first time in centuries, no one knew if the Hero would actually win."

The door opened and Ari came in. He took in Rosalyn's disheveled state, Stan's self-satisfied attitude, and the tumbled bedding, and asked with slight trepidation, "Do I want to know?"

Stan thought he should be angry, or at least insulted, but he was in too good of a mood. Rosalyn sighed heavily and explained, "Stan was trying to get me back for turning the lights off."

Ari relaxed visibly. "Oh, okay." He set the bag of breakfast on a table. "So what were you talking about?"

"I was telling pig girl about how women used to throw themselves all over me," Stan answered. Ari repressed a shudder.

"Oh, there's a mental picture," Rosalyn groaned, unknowingly agreeing with Ari. "I think I need to boil my brain, now."

"Please, be my guest," Stan said with relish.

"Oh, shut up." She helped herself to the food, then said, "So, keep talking. Why didn't anyone know if Hero Hopkins would win?"

Stan motioned to Ari to bring him the bag, then leaned back in his chair. He made Rosalyn wait for a very long time before saying, "So, first you want me to shut up, then you want me to talk? Make up your mind, woman! All right, all right. Let me start from the beginning."


	9. Ch9: Three Hundred Years Ago

Heroes and Evil Kings had been the most bitter of enemies seemingly since time began. They had fought each other for as long as anyone could remember. Indeed, they had fought for so long, no one really cared much anymore. They basically took it in stride when the Evil King appeared and prayed he would leave them alone. They didn't like getting their towns destroyed, but no ever died in any attacks.

The Heroes never even factored into the equation. They never helped the people rebuild; they never went out of their way to save lives unless they happened to be nearby anyway. They simply appeared, defeated the Evil Kings, and disappeared with the Princess back to wherever her home was. They were very unmemorable.

Life was very predictable for the people. The King ruled from afar through the Classification Tables, the Heroes fought the Evil Kings, and life kept going.

Until one day.

* * *

The Princess and her chamberlain began their world tour right on cue in Rashelo, as usual; at the time, it was quite a prosperous town. It wasn't built on the water, nor was it as patched-up-looking as it would later become. The Aquatic Ruins were known as a place of power, and the Princess was going there to pray for a safe journey, or something like that.

A very dark shadow stood hidden against a wall of the Ruins, watching as a boat came slowly toward him. According to tradition, the Princess would be in the Ruins for two days, during which time, no boats were allowed on the lake. After the ceremony, the Evil King would make his appearance, usually half the world away. That was the plan, anyway, according to tradition.

_This time will be different,_ thought Evil King Gohma. _This time, I will win. That's what that guy told me._

The man who called himself Pollack had told Gohma all about the plan. It had happened this way for so long, no one noticed the pattern anymore. They would notice this, however.

The boat had come very close, now. Gohma could just make out the Princess on board, wearing a raincoat to keep the spray from messing up her dress. He couldn't see her features; he was too high above her. But he thought she was probably looking very bored, indeed. She had done this too many times to count.

Pollack had told Gohma all about the World Library and Classification, and about how the Princess he was looking at now was the same one his predecessors had tried to kidnap countless times before. He wondered how she could live so long, and thought he might find the answers at the Library. He was planning on going there as soon as he had conquered the world.

The thought of actually winning was a very exciting one, and his eyes glowed red with anticipation. He closed them until he could get his emotions back under control, lest the glare give away his presence. He was not yet ready for anyone to know he was there. They would find out soon enough, once he had the Princess under his control.

Evil King Gohma was not a Shadow King, although he had quite an affinity for the magics associated with shadows and darkness. He had trained as a warrior in the Shadow Lands before coming to this world, so he was a master at the power, as he was of many others. He was a vampire mage from the Necropolis, and perfectly adept at all sorts of things. He was hiding from the light, now, but once darkness fell…

Once the night came, and the moon was high, he would strike.

* * *

Marlene yawned. She was so bored of the game, but her father kept playing. She had been sitting here for hours already, and nothing had happened. Nothing ever did. In the beginning, it had been fun. Now, it just got on her nerves, and she didn't have the heart to tell her father she was tired of it.

The room she was in was fairly large and empty save for the altar that sat at its center. There were candles on the altar, and she was supposed to light them, and then pray to something for two days. It was stupid. The game was rigged, anyway. Marlene was incapable of losing, whether she prayed here or not. She was sitting on the stone step that led up to the altar, but she was restless. She stood and paced the room.

Something hit the ground outside her door, but she didn't think too much of it. Although she wasn't supposed to, she knew the guards had smuggled in some liquor. She assumed one of them had just passed out. When she heard something moaning, she simply assumed her guess had been accurate.

The door clicked, and Marlene quickly kneeled as though she had been praying. She didn't want word to get back to her father that she wasn't taking this seriously.

"P-princess…" said a voice. Annoyed, Marlene turned with an acidic remark poised on her tongue, but the sight that met her eyes made her gasp and stumble backwards. The guard staggered into the room and fell. Blood ran down his body from two small puncture wounds in his neck. Marlene shook her head in denial.

"This can't be…" she muttered, nearing hysteria. "This can't happen. This isn't right!"

"No, it isn't," said a rich, luxurious, male voice. Marlene tore her eyes away from the dying guard and noticed a shadowy figure that filled the doorway. The only features she was able to make out were its glowing, red eyes.

"It isn't right," the figure said again. "That's what makes it so evil." The figure stepped forward into the light. It was a man, or might have been at one time. He was a large man with pale, translucent skin. His coal black hair reached to his waist. He wore a very expensive black suit, the kind any businessman would wear to a formal meeting. As he stepped forward, Marlene stumbled back; he smiled at that, revealing two very long fangs.

"You can't be…" Marlene stammered. She couldn't think or act, only react. "I didn't want…it's not time yet…"

"Let me make this simple for you," said the man. He leaned forward and tilted her head up to his face. "I am the Great Evil King, Gohma. You are my prisoner. Whatever happened before, it won't happen now. No one can save you. Not even your precious Hero."

Marlene shook with fear. She couldn't continue to look at him, at those mocking eyes, but something other than his hand held her. She stammered something incoherent and Gohma released her. He laughed at her, at her helplessness. As she watched with horror, he pulled the guard to his feet and sank his teeth into the holes he had already made on the man's neck. The man was too weak to struggle, but he tried. His limply flailing limbs slowly stopped moving, and Gohma dropped him at last. He turned back to Marlene and slowly, carefully licked the blood from his lips and fangs.

Marlene fainted.

* * *

He was a very ordinary guy, and very ordinary looking. He was 32 years old, with mouse brown hair, and brown eyes. He was average height and weight. In fact, he was not the least bit remarkable. No one bothered too much about him; in fact, they tended to completely ignore him, much to his disgust. He made a very modest living, but he thought he was doing pretty well considering that he lived in Rashelo, and no one could remember that he, or his store, existed. His name was nowhere in the Classification lists, for some strange reason. It never had been.

On the upside, the tax collectors never came to his house.

On the downside, it had been condemned three times and sold twice.

He closed up shop for the night and headed home after yet another day without a single customer. It was dark, but he decided to take a shortcut home. The shortcut took him through several very dangerous alleyways, but he wasn't worried. He'd never been mugged and never would be; thieves never saw him. The shortcut also took him by the deserted waterfront, and thus, he was the only one who saw the boat coming across the lake.

"Odd," he muttered, thinking aloud as he was wont to do. "The Princess shouldn't be coming back yet."

Then he noticed that there was only one person on the boat. One person…and a body, laying half over the side, as thought it was simply tossed there like a rag doll. Even in the dark, he could recognize the dress as belonging to the Princess. He didn't know the man, but he knew who it must be.

"The Evil King!" he exclaimed, but quietly. Sound carried very well over water, and he didn't want the Evil King to know he was there. He quietly made his way over the beach to the sidewalk, then ran for Town Hall as fast as he could.

The Town Hall was always open because it doubled as the center for law enforcement, and criminals didn't necessarily sleep at night. The man burst through the door, shouting, "It's the Evil King! He's got the Princess!"

A bleary eyed attendant blinked stupidly in his general direction and said, "Huh?"

He slammed his hands down on her desk, startling her into awareness. "The Evil King!" he repeated. "He's kidnapped the Princess!"

The attendant jumped to her feet. "What? That's impossible! What do we do?"

"I don't know!" he yelled back. "Call the mayor! Call the militia!"

"Right! The Mayor! Right! Uh…" The attendant looked around frantically. She seemed to take several hours to locate what she was looking for; it was a bell, and she rang it furiously until the head of the local militia stumbled into the room.

"What?" he demanded. "We're kind of busy back here."

Before anyone could answer, a loud explosion rocked the building, sending pictures to the floor and knocking over various paraphernalia. The three people ran from the building, followed quickly by the rest of the militia, to see the skyline red with fire.

* * *

Gohma stood high above the town on the turret of some building and laughed maniacally. Marlene hung limply, flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He looked around at the mayhem with satisfaction and threw another massive energy shot wildly into the city.

"Fear me, mortal fools," he yelled, his voice carrying easily over the screaming and the fire's roar. "My name is Evil King Gohma! Learn it, and despise it! I will bring upon you all a new age of darkness! The terrors of your nightmares shall walk freely through the night, and no one shall be safe, even in the light of day! Bow to me, cowards! I am your master!"

Still laughing, he gathered his power and sent it to the earth below him, then jumped from rooftop to rooftop, faster than any human could see. By the time the final explosion occurred, he was a mile away.

The light dawned on a very subduing sight. The city of Rashelo was no more; Gohma's final attack had created a massive crater that water was already beginning to fill. The few survivors moaned and cried; some kneeled, beating their fists against the ground. Some simply stood in shock and watched the water rush to fill the new void that had once been their great city. One person was repeating the words, "This is only a dream," as thought it was some holy mantra.

The man who had seen Gohma first had made it out relatively intact; his companions had not been so lucky. Flying shrapnel had killed the head of the militia. The young attendant had fallen; though the man had tried to save her, the flames had consumed her. He stood, now, looking out over the waters and crying silently. They had died before his eyes.

"This can't be happening," he whispered. Never had an Evil King done this much damage at once. No one had ever died. He noticed the Princess' chamberlain standing nearby with his head in his hands. "I won't let this happen, again," he said to the chamberlain, though not loud enough to actually be heard. He took one last look around him and said quietly, "No, I won't. Maybe I'm not the right man for the job, but I'll kill this Evil King Gohma with my bare hands if need be. My name is Alan Hopkins. Learn it and despise it, Gohma."

He turned and walked away, his stride purposeful, his eyes burning with a new light.


	10. Ch10: A Hero Awakened

Time passed, and Gohma systematically destroyed nearly every single city in the world. He went from city to town to village with the same uncaring arrogance. He didn't care about the size of the town as long as there were people in it. He had hidden Marlene somewhere after leaving Rashelo, and no one had an inkling of where.

Hopkins followed Gohma's path of destruction, hoping in vain that each location would bring him face to face with his enemy. The ghosts ran rampant across the world, now, forcing Hopkins to take up the sword and learn its use. He slew ghosts in the towns, rescued people, and helped with other things as best he could. He never saw another town damaged as badly as Rashelo had been, but the loss of life was still so tremendous.

People more or less ignored him, at first. But as time went on, they noticed him more and more. They started calling him a Hero, a savior. His reputation for helping the people preceded him, and they started watching for him and welcoming him. He wasn't the Great Hero, of course, but he was welcomed with more enthusiasm than if he had been. To be celebrated was a heady new experience, but Hopkins never forgot his goal: to destroy Gohma.

He was in a small town called Arlington on the opposite side of the mountains from Madril. It had been hit extremely hard, but fortunately, no one was killed here. They had had sense enough to post a lookout, so they could get away when the Evil King showed up. He had reduced the town to ashes in his anger at finding everyone gone, but at least they were safe. Hopkins was using the opportunity to take a break. Months of being one step behind the Evil King had taken its toll on him; he was beginning to think he'd never catch Gohma.

"He'll be on his way to Madril, next," said an old man. Hopkins turned slightly as the man approached.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "It's the only one left."

The man patted his shoulder. "You'll get him. I guarantee it."

Hopkins smiled. "Yeah, right. I'm not even the real Hero."

"How do you know? I haven't seen anyone else around to claim the job."

As if on cue, someone shouted, "Listen, everyone! Gather around!"

The man who called them was young, about nineteen or so. He had spiky black hair, and stunning blue eyes. He was a very handsome young man, and the young girls swooned accordingly. He carried a sword that was almost as big as he was.

"I think I see him, now," Hopkins said wryly. He chuckled. "How does he use that thing?"

"Who knows?" his companion answered.

The young man was still shouting. "I am the Great Hero Maximus! I will defeat Evil King Gohma and bring an end to his reign of terror!"

Hopkins scoffed. "Yeah, sure you will. When Mommy finishes nursing you."

A few people who were close enough to hear this comment started laughing. Maximus noticed, and said, "What? You don't believe me?" He sounded very insulted.

Hopkins wasn't sure what happened. He felt something come over him, and he didn't know what. All he knew was that he did not like this arrogant man at all. "I'll believe it when pigs grow wings and fly to the moon," he responded.

More laughter greeted this comment; apparently, many of the townsfolk were of the same opinion. Maximus scowled at Hopkins. "I am the Great Hero. I was chosen by the King himself."

"I haven't seen you doing much Hero-ing, lately," Hopkins returned angrily. "Where were you yesterday when Gohma was blowing this place to bits? Or last week, when he tried to level the Highlands? Maybe you were doing other, more important things. Like cleaning that monstrosity of yours, so it'd be nice and shiny when you meet Gohma."

The crowd nodded and murmured approval at Hopkins's gall.

"Yeah, where were you when he was in Montgomery?" someone shouted.

"He killed my family in Rashelo!" yelled a distraught woman near Hopkins. "Where were you then?"

Maximus looked around him in something of a panic. He had been angry at the start, but now, in the face of such accusations, he was becoming increasingly nervous. "I-I was…" he stammered. Nothing like this had ever happened before. The Great Hero had always been revered and accepted immediately. Never had the people turned on him.

Hopkins advanced on him. "Where were you when he destroyed Tenel? Lakewood? Triste? You arrogant cuss. You think you can just show up out of the blue and we're supposed to worship the ground you walk on? Go kill Gohma. Then, we'll talk."

Maximus had nothing left to say. He just turned and left as quickly as dignity would allow.

"You did right, lad," said Hopkins's companion as the townspeople dispersed.

"Did I?" Hopkins asked quietly.

"You did. He had no right to just show up and expect us to love him. He hasn't done a thing for us."

An old woman passed by and patted Hopkins on the shoulder. "You're the real Hero, lad," she murmured as she walked by.

Hopkins looked around him. Everyone was looking at him with approval; a few nodded as his gaze passed over them. He nodded once, decisively, and smiled around him. "Thank you. You've given me back my conviction."

"Go get him, Hero," shouted someone's daughter. Hopkins grinned and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, which he gave to her.

"You'll wait for me, right?" he asked mischievously.

The little girl grinned impishly and kissed him on the cheek. He feigned a swoon, bowed to her, and left.

* * *

Pollack nodded to himself. Everything was perfect. Alan Hopkins' unClassified status was beginning to affect the people he encountered. They had, for the first time in history, rejected the Great Hero out of hand. "You're losing, Beiloune," he muttered. "Soon, we'll be free of your games."

* * *

Gohma stood near invisibly in the shadows of the mechanics lab in Madril. Very few people were about at this time of night, but that was all right with the Evil King of Darkness.

_They'll be awake soon enough,_ he thought. He smiled maliciously. _Yes, they'll be awake just in time to be my dinner._ He licked his lips in anticipation. He hadn't fed in quite a while because Marlene had escaped and tried to drive a stake through his heart. It hadn't worked, of course; a vampire could only be killed by staking him, cutting off his head, burning his body, and scattering the ashes. Even then, it was chancy. But she had injured him and forced him to hide for a while until he healed.

He snarled in frustration at his predicament. He was weak, too weak to do much damage today. Despite all his grand plans, he knew he wouldn't be able to do much more than kill a few people. He'd have to wait to destroy the city, which meant that he'd have to find shelter nearby. He couldn't just keep running back and forth between his hideaway and Madril; it was a gross waste of time and energy.

His scanned the faces of the few people who were about at this time of night: mostly night watchmen, but there were a few bar patrons wandering around. None of them looked particularly appetizing, but Gohma wasn't in much of a position to be picky. If he went much longer without fresh blood, he'd be too weak to acquire it. He had just decided on his prey when a new face entered the scene.

_Now, this one looks much better,_ he thought. The human was little more than a boy, but he wasn't drunk or taking anything to keep him awake. He was obviously dead tired, which would make him easy prey.

The Great Hero Maximus was tired, in fact. He'd been walking for hours; his horse had been stolen several days earlier, and none of the people he'd passed had been interested in giving him a ride. He was not having a good life; people were supposed to love the Great Hero, not ignore him. He really felt cheated. He'd gotten the short end of the stick on this deal. He'd-

"Pardon me, sir," said a voice.

Maximus' thoughts came to a screeching halt as he searched out the source of the voice. He found himself staring at a very anemic looking individual. Something about him was nagging at the back of Maximus' mind.

"I can't help but see that you're a little tired," the man said. "Perhaps you'd like to come with me, and we'll see if we can't remedy that."

Maximus grinned. Finally, someone had recognized him as the Hero he was, and was paying him the proper respects. He nodded emphatically and followed the man into a small alley. He never came back out.

* * *

The bodies of Maximus and three other victims were found the next morning devoid of blood, and impaled on tall spikes that had been shoved with inhuman strength into the stone streets of the town square. The city was otherwise intact, but the citizens knew beyond any shadow of a doubt what had done this deed. They went about their daily business in terror, jumping at every sound and shadow, sure that at any moment, Gohma would leap out to kill them. The atmosphere was one of incomprehensible tension when Hopkins arrived. The bodies had already been removed, but the stakes were shoved in too deeply for any mortal man. The dig to remove them would commence later.

A few people noticed Hopkins's arrival, but most were too scared to notice much of anything until someone started shouting, "It's the Hero! Hero Hopkins has come!"

Hopkins promptly found himself the center of a very large crowd. The people were all talking at once and reaching out to touch him. They pulled him toward the Town Hall, where they finally moved a little ways away from him to allow the Mayor to approach.

"Are you really Hero Hopkins?" the Mayor asked. He sounded as though he didn't dare hope.

Hopkins nodded. "I am Alan Hopkins," he replied, still not quite wanting to call himself a Hero.

The Mayor heaved a sigh of relief and some of the hope came back into his eyes. He explained about the events of the previous night and begged Hopkins to save them before their city followed the path of all the others.

"You have my word, everyone," he said. "I will stop the Evil King."

A cheer went up, and Hopkins found himself hoisted onto the shoulders of two people and carried around town so everyone could see him. He smiled and waved, but he still couldn't help being bewildered at all the attention. He wondered if they were right to give it him.

* * *

Night. No one was up, this time, but that didn't matter to Gohma. He wasn't here to feed, although he would. No, he had regained his strength the night before when he had consumed that Hero. He chuckled evilly. _No Hero to save them this time,_ he thought. _I already killed him. What a moron he was, too. The Master is slipping._

He walked openly on the deserted streets, reveling in his power. He had unmade the entire world, and soon, he would remake it in his image. He would open the gates to the Diablerie and let free all the demons. He would enslave the human race, and force them to breed like cattle for him and his kind. His eyes glowed with malicious delight.

"Got a quarter?" asked a very old voice.

Gohma looked toward the source to see an old man huddled in blankets sitting in the entrance to the alleyway where Gohma had killed Maximus. _So there is one crazy loon, after all,_ he thought. He smiled and said, "I may. Come here."

The old man wheezed what might have been a laugh and stood. "Nice man," he said. "No one gives little ole me a quarter these days." He waddled over to Gohma and stood hunched over with his head down.

Gohma reached out and the man's head up to his face. He narrowed his eyes. "You're not-" he started to say, but his words ended in a gasp of pain. He staggered backwards and looked down to see a wooden stake sticking out of his chest.

Hopkins threw off his disguise and said, "That's for the people you killed last night."

He drew his sword and swung, aiming for Gohma's neck; but the Evil King was too fast. He ducked beneath the swing, repressing a gasp of pain from the stake, and rolled to the side. He jumped to his feet and pulled the stake from his heart. Blood oozed from the wound, but not very quickly.

"You have to be faster than that, human," he sneered. He rushed forward and forced Hopkins against a wall. "I already killed the Hero; you don't stand a chance." He licked his lips and bit into Hopkins's neck. Hopkins struggled, but to no avail.

* * *

Pollack stood some ways away, completely ignored by the two combatants. He sighed and shook his head. "Of course not," he muttered. "The Evil King is far too strong. Let's even this up a bit, shall we?" He pulled a small book from his pocket and wrote one sentence.

"Sorry, boy," he said as he turned away.

* * *

Hopkins slumped to ground. He was still alive, but barely. Gohma licked his lips and said, "You didn't really think you could defeat me, did you? I am the Great Evil King; my power is stronger than you could ever comprehend. But I am not without some mercy. I will let you live on, as a revenant."

He closed his eyes began to chant the words to the spell that would turn Hopkins into a mindless vampiric zombie. Hopkins tried to shake his head, to do something, but he was too weak. He thought about the people he had failed, and imagined their faces when they realized that he was nothing more than a charlatan.

Suddenly, he felt power fill him and restore his strength. He thought, at first, that it was part of Gohma's spell, but he knew instantly that that couldn't be. The power was warm; it filled him with light and life. He grasped his sword and, moving quickly, shoved it into Gohma's chest. "This is for Arlington," he gasped.

Gohma bit off his spell and nearly his tongue when he felt the steel enter his body. He looked down with amazement as Hopkins pulled back his sword and lunged to his feet. "Impossible!" Gohma croaked.

Hopkins didn't bother to answer; privately, he thought the same thing. Instead, he swung his sword, aiming again for the Evil King's neck. And again, Gohma dodged; this time, however, Hopkins was faster. Gohma avoided something like death, but he lost his right ear. He roared with pain and anger and pulled energy to his hands. They glowed with the power he gathered, as did his eyes.

Hopkins didn't wait around to see the blast that would cause. He jumped out of the way as Gohma threw the energy bolts at him. He swung his sword as he dodged and managed to score another hit on the Evil King, this time leaving a long, bleeding gash on his arm, from his hand to his shoulder.

Gohma shook his head. "You can't defeat me," he roared, despite all evidence to the contrary.

"Evil has never won, and I don't intend to let it start now," Hopkins responded. He charged Gohma and they became locked in a fierce struggle for the upper hand. Gohma shouted insults and curses, but Hopkins took it all in stride and hardly said a word. Both of them were injured, but Hopkins wasn't fighting against two holes in his chest; Gohma began to wear down very quickly.

Hopkins knocked Gohma into a wall; Gohma slid down it. He had lost too much blood during the fight, and now he was too weak to stand, although it didn't keep him from trying. Hopkins walked up to him, his sword at the ready. He shook his head. "You pitiful creature," he said with real regret. "You fought well, Evil King."

"Save your pity for yourself, human," Gohma spat, defiant to the end.

Hopkins sighed and said, "This is for Rashelo." He swung; Gohma's head rolled into the alley. "And this is for Marlene." He used his newfound power to create a magical fire that engulfed Gohma's body and head. It was over at last.


	11. Ch11: Back to the Present

"Alright, story time's over, kids," Stan said, standing. "I want to go into the sewers and see the magic square again."

Ari groaned, but stood. "Just as long as I don't have to go anywhere near it."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Rosalyn exclaimed. "What happened next? What about Marlene? Didn't they find her?"

Stan rolled his eyes. "If they had found her, we wouldn't be having this conversation, remember? You'd be dead by my hands." Rosalyn muttered something to the effect of "Whatever, Stan." "Besides," Stan continued. "I don't know what happens next. It was a fight just to get that much information. No one wanted to talk about it."

"But why not?" Rosalyn asked.

"Beiloune, most likely," Ari said. Stan nodded affirmation, so he continued. "That would have been a huge blow to him; he wouldn't have wanted it to be remembered."

"But it was, anyway," Rosalyn pointed out. "Was that because of Pollack?"

"Probably," Stan said with an unconcerned shrug. He entered Ari's shadow, then said, "Come on! Let's get out of here. If I stay here much longer, I'll go nuts."

"You are nuts," Rosalyn retorted. They continued to trade insults until they left the inn. Poor Ari, stuck in the middle of it all, as usual, was almost glad they were ignoring him.

* * *

The Madril sewers had not changed in the slightest. They were still covered in slime, and smelled of things best left unnamed. Rosalyn groaned as she stepped in something gooey. "I don't even want to know," she muttered.

Stan chuckled. "Don't worry, Pink. I'm sure it was just something very disgusting. Heh, too bad you don't have a servant to carry you around, like I do."

Rosalyn thought for a moment. "Hey, Ari," she said sweetly.

"No," Ari said.

"Darn it."

"Way to go, slave," Stan laughed.

"Ari, you don't have to do what Stan tells you," Rosalyn said. She may have still been trying to talk him into carrying her.

"Yes, he does," Stan contradicted her.

Ari gave a long-suffering sigh as Rosalyn and Stan continued to argue about his fate as slave to the Evil King. He didn't mind too much, sometimes; other times, it was a pain. But he thought it was his business whether or not he obeyed, and he was a little put off at Rosalyn and Stan for their constant bickering about it. Not that either of them cared.

He sighed, then realized that he could almost feel himself turning invisible. The Magic Square was close, and its power was already beginning to affect him. "Oh, great," he sighed. "Hey, guys! Shut up!" he exclaimed. Their argument came to an abrupt, surprised end. Ari had never told either of them to shut up. He continued. "Rosalyn, it's my business whether or not I want to do what Stan says. I'm sick of the two of you constantly arguing about it."

"Okay," Rosalyn said meekly. She was rather unnerved.

"Way to tell her off, slave," Stan said approvingly.

Ari sighed. "And you can stop calling me 'slave.' It's annoying."

Stan shrugged. "Tch. Whatever. …Slave." He grinned.

Ari rolled his eyes and shook his head. At least, he'd tried. The effects of the Magic Square were held at bay, for now. This hadn't happened, last time. The Square hadn't affected him until he had stood on it with Stan; then, it had enhanced his natural state of invisibility and made him even worse off than the rest of the Ignored. They had barely been able to see him. If it hadn't been for Block, the magic wielding Ringmaster of the Circus, he would still be in Triste. He couldn't imagine why the Square would be affecting him now, unless it was because he'd been affected before.

After a while of not meeting anything interesting, Stan got bored and picked a fight with Rosalyn about her parasol. They argued happily over Ari's head for the rest of trip, much to boy's amused annoyance. Finally, however, they arrived at the Magic Square.

Stan finally came out of Ari's shadow and walked around the Square.

"Afraid to step on it?" Rosalyn taunted.

"No!" Stan retorted. "I just don't feel like it right now."

"Sure, Stan."

Ari stood in the doorway; he didn't really want to get any closer. He also didn't want Rosalyn to tease Stan into actually standing on the Square, so he said, "Lay off, Ros."

She sighed. "So what are you looking for, anyway?"

Stan folded his arms and stared at the Square. "I'm not certain. I thought it would have power, but it doesn't seem to."

"Yes, it does," Ari said, and was subsequently ignored. He sighed. "Ah, come on…Yes, it does!" he said louder. This time, he was rewarded when Rosalyn jumped.

"Oh! Ari! I'd completely forgotten about you. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I noticed," he grumbled. Now that he had their attention, it wasn't difficult to keep it. "That's thing's doing it to me."

Stan seemed surprised. "So it does have some power left? Oh, now I see…"

"But how can it? Didn't it use all of its power on Ari?" Rosalyn asked.

"Maybe it got it back when Block broke the spell," Ari ventured.

Stan nodded. "That could be." He looked around the room, then walked out into the hall and looked around.

"Now, what are you looking for?" Rosalyn demanded.

"We could probably set a trap here," Stan explained. "We can hide, and when James comes, we'll attack."

"Sounds good to me," Ari said. "Can we get out of here, now?"

Rosalyn nodded. "I agree. This place is filthy."

"Wussie," Stan accused good-naturedly. "Whatever. We'll come back and wait later tomorrow."

* * *

Mirror Stan tromped through the sewer. He didn't like being treated like a common slave, and he didn't like being in such a disgusting environment, but at least he was away from James and Natasha. Neither of them had wanted to come. He was relieved that they had sent him alone. It gave him a chance to relax and forget about being someone's subordinate for a while.

He saw the Magic Square ahead of him and sighed. It had been so nice, not having to deal with James. Now, it was almost over. He walked a few steps farther and suddenly found himself knocked to the floor. He wrestled with his assailant while he pulled energy into his hands. Finally, he had enough to send an energy shot into his opponent…

…At the exact moment that Stan sent one into him. The blast threw them both against the walls of the sewer. They recovered simultaneously, but it was now impossible to tell which was which.

"Oh, great," Rosalyn complained. "Now, I can't tell which one's the real one!"

"Who cares?" said Stan. He and Mirror Stan lunged at each other at the same time.

"That one," Ari said.

"Nope, I lost him again," Rosalyn sighed. She had her rapier at the ready, but it didn't look like she'd have much of a chance to use it.

The two combatants continued to use the exact same attacks at the exact same time, rendering the majority of their attacks useless. Finally, Stan backed away and Mirror Stan followed suit. "Had enough?" Stan sneered.

"Had enough?" his counterpart mimicked.

"Stan, he's mirroring you," Ari said.

"I noticed," Stan said dryly.

Mirror Stan sighed in annoyance. He gestured at the Magic Square and raised his eyebrows. _Can I go now?_ he thought.

Stan glanced at the Square. "What? You think I'm just going to let you go now?"

Mirror Stan shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, right!" Rosalyn yelled. "You're working for James! We'll never let you get away."

Mirror Stan rolled his eyes and gave Rosalyn a withering glare. Stan laughed. "I think I like you. Pity you can't talk."

Mirror Stan narrowed his eyes in thought, then shook his head. He was so close, now. All he needed was for Stan to name him…

"Where's James?" Rosalyn demanded. Mirror Stan pointed up. "He's up above? Well, how do we know you're telling the truth?"

"Mirrors can't lie," Ari said. Mirror Stan nodded.

Rosalyn scoffed at that; obviously, she thought that this one probably could.

"So what are you supposed to be doing here?" Ari asked.

"Yeah, right. Like he's going to tell us," Rosalyn muttered.

Mirror Stan glared at her again. He pointed to the Magic Square, then up toward the surface. Finally, he gathered energy to his hands and forced it away, then pulled it back. _I really hate charades,_ he thought.

"I hate charades," Stan unknowingly echoed. "Something about taking it to James?"

"…taking it to James…" his counterpart agreed.

Rosalyn scoffed. "You're going to take the Magic Square up to James? How?"

Mirror Stan rolled his eyes and shook his head. _I really, really hate charades._ As annoying as this was, however, he was happy he didn't have to go back to James right away. James couldn't command him if he wasn't there. He leaned against the wall, perfectly happy to let this continue as long as necessary.

"Okay," Rosalyn said in exasperation. "You're not taking the Square, but you're taking the Square?"

"I knew you were dumb, but that's stupid even for you," Stan remarked.

"Oh, shut up, Stan!"

Ari groaned as the pair launched joyously into a shouting match, completely forgetting about everything else. "Pathetic, aren't they?" he said idly.

Mirror Stan nodded. _Actually, it's kind of funny. I wonder what her name is._

"That's Rosalyn," Ari said.

Mirror Stan jumped and stared at Ari.

"I saw you looking at her and figured you didn't know her name," Ari explained.

Mirror Stan relaxed back against the wall, rather dejected. _Damn it. I thought he might have heard me._

Rosalyn and Stan continued to argue, heedless of everything else.

"You know, not that I'm trying to help you or anything, but you could probably sneak past them right now."

Mirror Stan shook his head.

"Because they'll be at this for hours."

Mirror Stan grinned and shook his head again. _This is hilarious. Why would I want to go anywhere?_

"You really don't like doing what James tells you, do you?" Ari asked, his suspicions having been confirmed. "Not even destroying things?"

_Where's the fun in mindless destruction when you're being forced to do it?_ Mirror Stan sighed. The boy couldn't hear him think, of course. Being unable to communicate was maddening.

"Can't you get free of him?" Ari asked, seemingly genuinely concerned.

Mirror Stan sighed and nodded slowly. He didn't know quite how to explain that Stan needed to say his name. He was saved from having to think of a new charade when an annoyingly familiar voice interrupted Stan and Rosalyn's argument.

"So this is what's taking so long!" said the voice of James. Everyone jumped; Ari drew his sword, and Stan pulled energy to his hands. Mirror Stan stood by, not really wanting to approach James, but unable to do anything against him.

"James!" Stan yelled. "How dare you betray me? I'm going to make you regret you ever considered it!"

"I think not, Your Majesty," James sneered. "Slave, destroy them."

Mirror Stan sighed and walked around until he was between James and the party. He shrugged as if to say, "This wasn't my idea," and started to gather energy.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Rosalyn exclaimed. She lunged forward and sliced at Mirror Stan, forcing him to take a step backward or risk being cut in two. Without his attention, the energy he gathered dispersed. Rosalyn kept hacking away at him; without having Stan's experience or finesse to mirror, all he could do was continue to retreat.

"What are you doing?" James demanded. "Kill her!"

"Oh, James," Stan said with mock sweetness.

James would have paled if he'd had skin; Stan was right behind him. He whirled around and back away quickly. "Uh…Master, James was only kidding," he wheedled. "It was a joke. You thought it was funny, right?"

"Oh, yes," Stan said mockingly. "Absolutely hilarious. Especially the part where I send you back to the Diablerie in pieces." James whimpered as Stan, in all his fury, advanced with painful slowness.

Ari yelped suddenly, and everyone stopped and turned toward him. Natasha had stolen his sword and was holding him bound with the blade at his throat. "I'll kill your servant. See if I don't."

"Ari!" Rosalyn exclaimed, completely forgetting that she was supposed to be fighting a battle. Fortunately for her, Mirror Stan decided to take this opportunity to take a break.

Stan shrugged. "I'm supposed to care?"

"Just back off!" She jerked Ari; he gasped as the sword bit into his throat.

"Leave him alone," Rosalyn yelled.

Natasha chuckled and started backing toward the Magic Square; Ari had no choice but to follow. "Just stay away, and I won't kill him."

Stan glared, but he really was concerned for Ari's safety. He let James hurry past him with little more than a muffled curse.

"Let him go," Rosalyn shouted. This was her first glimpse of Natasha, but she wasn't letting it faze her. Natasha only sneered and continued walking backwards.

"Let's go, slave," James called to Mirror Stan, who growled and started forward. He did not want to do this at all. As he passed Stan, he gave him a relatively pleading look. Stan, of course, had no idea why.

Mirror Stan glared inconspicuously toward James and Natasha then faced the Magic Square and closed his eyes. The Square reached grey tendrils of light toward him. "He's draining it," Stan muttered, amazed. He hadn't realized that his imposter was that strong, although he should have. He mentally smacked himself for the oversight.

"Incredible, isn't he?" James asked. "An Image from the Simulacrum. They can do anything their counterparts can. That would be you, of course."

His job completed, Mirror Stan faced James. James nodded in satisfaction and muttered something to Natasha, who threw Ari forward. Without another word, they vanished.


	12. Ch12: The Forgotten Library

_So close, so close…_ Mirror Stan silently wailed. He had been so close to being free. Obviously, Stan had no real idea what Mirror Stan was, or he would have named him. _Or would he? I would have, but then, I'm rather biased. _Not that it mattered at this point. If he was going to get free, he was clearly going to have to take matters into his own hands.

James and Natasha had already taken the power of the Magic Square from him, but he still had plenty left for his plot. Carefully, so as not to arouse attention, he gathered his power and sent it out, calling to someone far away.

* * *

Somewhere on a far distant island, a woman tilted her head to the sky. She listened intently to a voice only she could hear, then nodded once. "So I'm not the only one anymore," she murmured. "Good. I was getting lonely."

She turned and gestured toward a stone pillar; in response, a white light erupted from it, which she entered.

* * *

KT stood anxiously by the gate of Triste. It had held up surprisingly well; Mirror Stan hadn't been particularly interested in it. She glanced around at the carnage; it wasn't quite as bad as it had been. The fires had finally been put out thanks to a massive rainstorm, and a lot of the rubble had been systematically cleared away. Everyone had finally been accounted for, thankfully, and there were no deaths, although there had been several close calls.

She thought that Stan's doppelganger hadn't really seemed interested in destroying anything. It was as though he had done it simply because someone had told him too, which was quite likely if it was what she thought.

Someone cleared her throat and KT whirled around, startled. The only person who could sneak up behind her was…

"Kestra!"

"Hello, KT," said the mysterious woman of Wap-Wap. "We have much to talk about."

"But what are you doing here?" KT asked. Kestra pointed behind herself, turned, took a step forward, and vanished. KT looked around and quickly followed. "I thought you didn't like to leave Travelers' Isle," she continued once they were reunited.

"I do not," Kestra answered. "But one of my kind is here."

KT nodded. "I've seen him. I had a feeling that's what he was."

"He must be freed," Kestra said emphatically. "His counterpart doesn't know the rules, and he's being controlled by someone."

KT shook her head. "I know what you want," she said. "I can't do it. That's seriously overstepping the bounds."

"The lines have already been crossed. My world should have always remained separate, but now it's connected to yours. Now, one of my kind is an unwilling servant to a very evil being. You must do something."

KT sighed. The rules had been, not just broken, but shattered. She was charged with working to protect that… "Alright," she said at last. "I'll tell Stan what to do."

Kestra smiled and patted her shoulder. "Thank you, KT. I knew you'd do the right thing." Once she had gone, KT shook her head. "Am I…?"

She settled down to wait for the trio of heroes, her thoughts in turmoil. She had already crossed the line by telling Ari how to get to the Diablerie, but that wasn't as bad. She hadn't actually told him what to do, just gave him a direction. This was completely different; she had just agreed to directly interfere. She couldn't interfere.

On the other hand, Beiloune had already started it long ago. If she could make it a little closer to how it should be by doing this, then she should.

_No, I shouldn't,_ she thought as she saw the heroes and Evil King coming closer. _I shouldn't, but I will._

She stood as they approached, and smiled. "It's good to see you again, Ari."

"Hey, KT," Ari responded, a bit suspiciously. He still wasn't precisely certain whether or not he wanted to trust her.

"Who's this?" Stan demanded. "How dare you greet the slave and ignore moi!"

"Stan, get over yourself," Rosalyn said in annoyance.

KT chuckled. "Forgive me, your majesty. My name is KT. I have something to tell you."

Stan folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"

KT took a deep breath. This was it; there was no taking this back. "Your imposter is a creature from the Simulacrum."

Stan nodded. "I know that already."

"They're called Images because that's what they are," she continued. "You created it in your image, but James controls it."

Rosalyn interrupted her this time. "You're telling us things we already know."

KT sighed. "I'm stalling," she admitted. "In order to stop the Image, just say its name."

"What is its name?" Stan asked.

"Only you can know the answer to that. I'm sorry. You called it; you created it. You know its name. You just have to look inside yourself and find it." She bowed her head, ignoring Stan's comments. "I must go. Good-bye."

"KT! Wa-!" Ari began, but KT had already vanished.

"…don't know its name…" Stan was complaining. "How am I supposed to know? What's she mean I created it?"

"I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually," Rosalyn said in a surprisingly successful attempt to shut him up. "Come on; we've got to get to the World Library."

Ari stared at the place where KT disappeared while he waited for Stan to take over his shadow. He knew she was on their side, but he didn't know what she was. One thing was for certain, though; she wasn't a normal human by any stretch of the imagination.

* * *

"The Forgotten City," Stan announced as they entered the maze of broken buildings and ancient rubble.

"What about it?" Rosalyn grumbled. Her feet hurt, and she was tired. She wasn't in the mood for Stan's inane blather.

"Nothing really," Stan admitted. "I just didn't get much of a chance to look around last time. I'll meet you on the other side."

Before they could stop him, he was gone.

_Been a long time since I was here last,_ he thought. _I wonder if the library is still here…_

He jumped onto a wall and glanced toward Ari and Rosalyn; all he could see was the top of Rosalyn's parasol, which suited him just time. He jumped down on the other side and headed purposefully toward a small building that was still mostly intact.

It looked like a guardhouse from the outside, and the inside didn't do much to discourage that misconception. It was very plain; it always had been. A single desk and chair had sat in one corner; both were long rotted away from time and the elements. In one wall was a small hole, a testament to the small landscape that had once hung there. It had always had a stone floor, but a well-worn rug had once tried unsuccessfully to hide it. A cheery fire had always burned in the fireplace.

The inhabitant had been an old scholar once, though his eyes were so covered in cataracts that he had been nearly blind when Stan first met him. He had twisted a knob on the wall and the fire had died. That knob was gone now, ripped away, but Stan could still see where it had once been. Once the fire had died, the old man had pushed on one of the bricks above it, and the floor had scraped and groaned until it had disappeared, revealing a ladder. The floor had crumbled now, and the ladder rotted away, but Stan knew how far down it was. He carefully lowered himself into the chute and fell.

At the bottom, he cursed as he turned his foot on some unexpected rubble. It was too dark to see much of anything, but he knew what to do. He found the old oil lamp right where it was supposed to be and used his magic to light a fire on the wick. He didn't need to worry that the oil was too old to keep the flame going; it ran on magic.

The light revealed a library to rival Beiloune's. Nearby, at the old desk where he had once studied the ancient texts, sat a skeleton. Stan walked up to it and moved as though to touch it, but he stopped himself.

"Hello, Anders," he whispered. "It's been a while."

The skeleton didn't respond; Stan would have alarmed if it had. Although he wasn't often prone to sentimentality, he felt it now. He had spent a good part of his life in this underground treasure trove of knowledge. Anders had taught him everything he knew, including how to read the archaic text.

Not worried that he might harm the books, they were spelled against harm after all, Stan started pulling them down. He wanted to verify what KT had said, but he also wanted to find something. He remembered reading it and not paying much attention at the time, but now it seemed important. It had been about the power of the World Library.

* * *

Rosalyn kicked at a stone and sighed. "Where do you think he went?"

Ari shrugged and sat down on a rock. "I didn't think there was anything that interesting left," he responded.

They had just gotten out of the maze, but they were both starting to get nervous. They had expected Stan to find them again before they got out; it didn't take more than a few minutes to see all that the ruins had to offer. But he was still missing. Although she would never admit it, Rosalyn was starting to worry that he might have gotten into trouble. Ari, too, was worried, but he was more open about it.

"You don't think he might have met James, do you?" he asked. "Maybe he's hurt; maybe we should look for him."

Privately, Rosalyn agreed. Before she could respond, however, a voice interrupted her.

"Oh, please," said Stan. "I almost pity the dimwit who tries to take me on." He jumped down from the wall he'd been walking along. As an afterthought, he added, "Almost."

"Stan!" Rosalyn exclaimed. She may have been overreacting a bit, but he had startled her when he spoke. "Where have you been?"

Stan shrugged. "Around. Now, don't we have things to do?" He started walking with a very purposeful stride that might have been more correctly interpreted as a strut.

Rosalyn huffed loudly as she fell in behind him. "Oh! You are insufferable!"

"A five syllable word!" Stan exclaimed with mock amazement. "Did it make your tiny pea brain explode?"

And the fight was on. Ari groaned inwardly, but at least they were still moving for this one. He almost wished that one of them wasn't there, although he could never have decided which one. Despite their flaws, he loved them both. Including Stan, even if he did boss Ari around all the time.

Stan and Rosalyn really had more in common than they thought, Ari knew. They were both insufferable; they didn't like anyone telling them what to do. Both of them were arrogant and stubborn at the best of times, and outright pig-headed at the worst. And although Stan tended to have better insults, Ari got the impression that that was mainly because Rosalyn was a Hero, and not prone to being hateful and mean at a moment's notice. Stan evoked the worst in her, but the strangest part was, she let him.

Ari shook his head and laughed quietly. The two of them were made for each other.


	13. Ch13: Emancipation

Upon the defeat of Beiloune, the World Library, devoid of power, had slid into a deep chasm on the northern side of the Highlands. The huge granite structure had been all but destroyed by its fall. A few bits and pieces were still somewhat intact, but for the most part, it had been reduced to so much rubble. The spells that kept the books preserved had failed, and they had rotted away as their true age came upon them.

In the midst of all the debris, there was one thing that did stand out. It might have been a room at one time; now, it more closely resembled a tomb. The door, made of granite, featured an ornate crest. One side was white and the other was black, but where there should have been a definite line between the two, the colors blurred together to become silver or grey. The symbol was surrounded by a grey sunburst. Few people knew what it meant any more, but Mirror Stan did, and he loathed see it crushed.

The door had been blasted from the inside, as though something within had been desperate to escape. Concerned, James shoved past Mirror Stan, who mimed throttling him behind his back.

Inside, the damage was a testament to the prisoner's desperation. There were monitors, gears, wires, and buttons strewn everywhere, but the focal point of the room was in the very center behind a smashed console. It was a glass tube, or had been once. It appeared to have been shattered from the inside.

"Now, what happened here?" James muttered. He knew this room was the center of power for the World Library and Classification, but he hadn't really known what to expect. It looked as though something had been held in there, and had broken out. But that implied that it was alive, which it couldn't be.

Could it?

A snapping noise brought an end to his ruminations, and he turned. "Oh, what is it now, slave?" he demanded.

Mirror Stan looked decidedly smug as he gestured at something outside. An all-to-familiar voice called out, "Hey, James!"

It was like a rash that just wouldn't go away. How they knew he would be coming here was beyond him, but he had a pretty good idea. "This was your doing, wasn't it?" Mirror Stan shrugged, but his expression said it all. James rushed passed him to see Stan, Ari, and Rosalyn standing a mere dozen feet away ready for a fight. It was on his tongue to ask why Mirror Stan hadn't attacked them, but he bit it off in favor of, "Don't just stand there! Kill them!"

"Now, that's no way to greet an old 'friend', is it?" Stan asked ironically. "I just thought you'd like to know that his name…"

Mirror Stan stopped short and held his breath.

"…is Illisaith."

There seemed to be a moment when the whole world just stopped in expectation. The newly christened Illisaith smiled slowly, and it was full of malevolent glee. "What nonsense is this?" James asked, more perplexed than angry.

"Oh didn't you know?" Stan grinned maliciously. "Images are only…controllable because they aren't real."

"Name a thing and you give it life," Illisaith finished, turning. As far as first words went, he thought that was nice and dramatic. In a perfect mirror of Stan's gloating expression, he continued, "I've been waiting a long time for this."

James had been threatened before, many times. He was the Evil Butler, after all, assistant to countless Evil Kings before now; death threats came with the turf. He had worked for some of the most ruthless, violent demons ever to walk the mortal realms, and he had always been able to rely on the smug certainty that he was indispensable. He had gotten just a hair nervous on more than one occasion but had never had to fear for his life.

He was afraid now.

The look of pure, joyful rage on Illisaith's face would have scared Stan, had he been able to see it. As it was, he had a pretty good idea what his mirror image was thinking. He would have been thinking the same thing. "You're in trouble now, James," he laughed.

"Are you actually going to just stand there and let him have all the fun?" Ari asked quietly. Rosalyn, wondering the same thing, turned half of her attention to the answer.

Stan shrugged. "Why not? He deserves it." Catching the amazed expression on Rosalyn's face, he grinned. "Besides. I've always wanted to watch myself work."

"You really are stupid," Rosalyn said in disgust, earning a snide smirk.

At the same time, Illisaith was advancing on James. "Get rid of me, will you?" he growled. "Use me? Treat me like a common servant? I am going to tear you limb from limb!" With a wordless roar of fury, he lunged for James' throat, intending to rip his head off. James managed to dodge by throwing himself backward, but he was too slow to escape unscathed; Illisaith caught him by one horn and snapped it in half.

"Just make it easy on yourself and hold still," he said as he threw the fragment to the ground.

James may have tried to answer, but all that came out was a terrified whine. He desperately wished that he hadn't given Natasha all the power they leeched from the Magic Square. In a last ditch effort to escape, he gathered his power and cast his teleportation spell. Illisaith was less than half a foot away by the time it took effect, but James did succeed in his egress.

At the top of his lungs, Illisaith yelled several words that should not be repeated, moved from there into a litany of James' ancestry, and finished with a recitation of body positions that were probably anatomically impossible. With a wordless growl, he whirled to face Stan, who apparently thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Stanley…shut…up," Rosalyn said through her teeth. She raised her rapier and nodded at Ari to do the same. They both clearly expected the enraged Image to attack, but he relaxed slightly and snarled.

In a quieter but no less irate tone of voice he said, "Glad you found that so amusing."

"Oh, it was," Stan laughed. "Too bad you didn't catch him. I could have, of course."

"No, you couldn't have!" Illisaith argued. "You can't even catch that bloated hog over there when she's standing still!"

"Hey!" Rosalyn yelled uselessly.

"Well, at least I don't go around getting myself thrown into servitude by clods like James!"

"Oh, no, you just get yourself imprisoned in the stupidest places. Like bottles and mirrors."

Stan's eyes flashed with rage, but so did Illisaith's. It is surprisingly difficult to match wits with oneself. "You…insipid imposter! The only reason you even exist is because of me!"

"You're the insipid one, you incompetent jackass!" He laughed viciously. "No wonder you can't conquer the world. You're the Evil King of Incompetent Jackasses."

It might have gone on for considerably longer if Rosalyn hadn't chosen that moment to mutter, "Great. Just what I need: Stan in stereo."

"I resent that!" Illisaith exclaimed. "I am not him, you washbowl woman!"

"Could have fooled me."

"Okay!" Ari said before Stan could join in again and make matters even worse. He was given three rankled glares for his trouble, and ignored them all. "We still have people to deal with, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Stan muttered.

"Well, it's your problem, now," Illisaith said. "I'm gone."

"Fine by me," Rosalyn told him. "I can barely stand one of you; I don't think I could take two."

"Just don't go too far," Stan said menacingly. "As soon as I deal with certain traitors, I'm coming back for you. I don't like to share."

"Neither do I," his counterpart agreed. "One of us has got to go."

"But later," they said in unison, narrowing their eyes.

"Okay, that's getting really irritating," Rosalyn grumbled. "I'm out of here. Come on, Ari."

"Hey!" Stan yelled, turning away. "You don't tell my slave what to do!"

"He's not your slave, you stupid fake evil being!"

Ari had heard this particular argument too many times to count; he hesitated a moment longer. Illisaith drew himself up and returned Ari's gaze. He gave a curt nod, then turned and walked in the other direction. The sheer lack of mockery or irony was astounding, and Ari wondered if Illisaith was really as much like Stan as he seemed to be.

Unbeknownst to any of them, a strange kind of creature watched from a distance. It had once loved people; now, it could no longer bring itself to trust them. It had been betrayed one too many times. Still, it followed after Illisaith. After all, he had recently escaped a prison much like the creature's own. Perhaps, he could be trusted. It so wanted a friend.


	14. Ch14: The Radiant Star

"Natasha?" James said sadly. "My love, I'm afraid I've failed you after all." He rubbed the edge of his broken horn and took an uncertain step into the gloomy crypt. Natasha stood facing one of the grave plaques; she looked up when James spoke, but did not turn. "Stan and those two humans came," he went on. "The slave got free and turned on me and…"

"It's alright, Jamie," Natasha said sweetly, turning at last. She put her tentacles around his neck and lightly kissed his forehead. "I have everything I need already."

James beamed. She'd only been testing his love after all, or so he thought. "I'm glad, my love. I was afraid you'd hate me for failing you."

She smiled and shook her head. "You didn't fail me, Jamie. I never really expected a weak fool like you to succeed anyway."

James tried to jerk away as the reality of what she had so lovingly said hit him like a ton of bricks. "N…Natasha…?"

The demoness laughed lightly. There was no malice, no sarcasm; she sounded like she was talking to an old friend who'd suddenly become particularly dense. "Oh, sweetie, you're just not that good at magic. To be honest, I'm surprised the slave hasn't escaped already considering how you botched the consciousness spell. But that's okay. I've just been using you to gather power for me, anyway. And you did that marvelously, considering how adorably inept you usually are."

James gasped as he felt the magic that animated him begin to unravel. Natasha was still speaking, but he could no longer hear her. He could only think that she had betrayed him. He did everything for her, and she had betrayed him. He had told her how he had been made, and she was using that knowledge to unmake him. He wasn't quite gone yet when she let go, and so was able to see the name on the plaque. His last thought was that he should have known. Natasha had been Gohma's wife, after all.

She looked down at the remains of James and shook her head ruefully. "Oh, Jamie. Everyone knows that the Eclipse doesn't really exist. It is sweet that you would go looking for me, but it was very dumb. You poor thing, not even recognizing a fool's errand like that." She sighed and turned away.

* * *

Illisaith laid on his back and stared happily up at the star studded sky. Freedom suited him just fine, and as soon as he got rid of Stan, this would all be his. Then he would be the ruler, and everyone else would have to do what he said. He thought that made a nice change of pace. There was just one little problem.

Everyone kept mistaking him for Stan.

Those few others of his kind that had been called to this world over the centuries might not have minded that sort of thing, but Illisaith was not like them by any stretch of the imagination. He was an Evil King, created by an Evil King, and that made him evil. Very evil. So evil, in fact, that just to prove his evilness, he was going to get Stan back in a way that would sorely damage him.

He sat up and looked down at what was left of Rashelo. It was a good plan, he thought. He grinned malevolently, remembered he could talk finally, then changed his mind and laughed maniacally instead. It felt good to be free.

Hidden, the creature fluttered paper-white wings and smiled. It didn't know what Illisaith was thinking, nor did it particularly like his tone. But he was clearly happy about something, and that made the creature happy. It crept cautiously out of its hiding place and, using its wings like a cricket would, made a soft chirping noise.

Illisaith whirled around, ready for a fight. When he saw the creature, he narrowed his eyes. It was mostly humanoid in form, with four thin, insect-like wings hanging down its back. Its deep blue, slightly-too-large eyes were the only features on its face. There were only three fingers on each hand, and no discernable toes on its feet. Its body emitted a soft white light. It was only about four feet fall, but it hovered over the ground to be eye-level with Illisaith.

"I think…I know you…" he said slowly.

"Have I lapsed from the memory of all?" the creature asked sadly, using its wings as an audio medium. At Illisaith's obvious puzzlement, it continued. "I imagine it is to be expected. Long have I been trapped in that prison of glass. At least, you retain some faint knowledge. I am Radiant Star."

Illisaith decided to relax. "You were the power of the World Library."

"For so long, yes. I was. But we have both gained our freedom. What is your name, young one?"

Stan would have objected loudly to being called "young one", so Illisaith squashed down the urge to shout insults. Instead he told her his name and, with some prompting, his story and plans.

Star tilted her head and laughed. "It is an exemplary plan, young one. I would grant succor, if I may."

Stan would have objected loudly, saying he didn't need help. Illisaith grinned. "I would welcome your help."

* * *

Rainy season in Madril was as bad as it ever was. Not one to be blatantly daft twice, Rosalyn closed her parasol so it wouldn't blow away; it was too dark to see her shadow anyway. Even at midday, the sky was so full of clouds that the sun was a half-remembered dream. The streets were beginning to flood, the water having risen nearly half a foot just since the day before. The elevator, while still functioning, was quickly becoming a water tank. When the doors opened, what had to be at least ten gallons of water spilled out along with the pair of heroes. Stan, as usual, was immune to weather.

In a fit of brilliance, the innkeeper had put a blockade across the bottom of the door to keep the water out. By the time they got over it and inside, Rosalyn was again in a foul mood, Stan was laughing at her, and Ari was resigned to what would most likely be a very long day. Fortunately, the innkeeper remembered Rosalyn's temper, and their business was conducted in grateful silence. He looked at them strangely as they went past and wondered where the devilish laughter was coming from.

Stan, also not one to be blatantly daft twice, came out of Ari's shadow the second they entered the room. Ari himself tried to shake off his sodden clothing while Rosalyn headed straight for the shower. He glanced at Stan, who was now seated in the chair by the window flipping aimlessly through a tourist pamphlet. "You're being awfully quiet all of a sudden," he said.

Stan shrugged without looking up. "I'm bored, and this is going to be a very long afternoon. But if you really want, I can always order you to go find dinner." He glanced up and laughed at Ari's dismayed expression. "Relax, slave Ari. You're no good to me if you're sick. Just hurry and get dried off, so you can get back to attending to me." As an afterthought, he added, "Assuming, of course, that Hero woman doesn't take as long as your sister in there."

Ari grinned. "Or Marlene," he agreed. "Or mom."

"Women," Stan muttered. "Who needs 'em?"

They fell silent, and Ari wondered, not for the first time, at how Stan could seem almost normal at times. Anyone who didn't know them might even have mistaken them for a pair of buddies discussing the detriments of that aliens species known as woman. At least, they might have until Stan threw the pamphlet across the room and demanded, "Slave, entertain me!"

Ari shook his head and repressed a grin. "I thought I was supposed to dry off first."

"You were, but that damn woman's taking too long, and I'm bored. So entertain me."

The hapless boy shrugged. "What do you want me to do? Juggle?"

It was a testament to his ennui that Stan actually considered that for several seconds. "Juggling is stupid. Think of something else."

"Uh…"

"I know!" Stan announced. "Dance, slave!"

"What?"

"You heard me. Dance. Obey your master, slave."

Ari was spared the indignity by Rosalyn's muffled voice. "He's not your slave, pancake shadow!"

"That insult only works if I am a shadow," Stan yelled in considerably brighter spirits. "Which I'm not, you airheaded simpleton."

The bathroom door flew open and a righteously angry Rosalyn stalked out, her face red from more than just the hot shower. Ari ducked in behind her before the degenerative name calling could ensue. Unfortunately, not only was it still going on when he came back out, it had retrogressed to the point that they were simply calling each other stupid.

"You stupid, stupid, stupid Evil King," Rosalyn yelled, stamping her foot.

Stan growled. He was shaking with rage. "You're the stupid one, stupid Hero woman!"

Ari carefully and quietly left the room for all that it helped. A door opened off to his right and a disgruntled head poked out. "Are they going to be at that for much longer?"

Ari shrugged. "They'll be at it for the rest of day, off and on. Sorry."

"Can't you shut them up?"

Ari grinned and shook his head. "I value my life too much." He turned his back on the man's puzzled expression and wandered into the lobby where the shouting was mostly drowned out by the storm. A bucket positioned near the middle of floor was already half filled with rain water from a leak in the roof. The innkeeper gave him an odd look but left him in piece. He roamed around looking at some pictures on the walls until the sounds of shouting finally ceased, then walked back into the hall and groaned to see Rosalyn standing between a nearly rabid Evil King and a terrified neighbor. He heaved a melancholic sigh and slid back into the room as Rosalyn tried to convince the man that he really needed to go back to his room, and she was a Hero, she would handle it thank you very much. Stan snarled and lunged forward; he didn't succeed in getting past Rosalyn, but he did succeed in scaring the poor guy back into his room. And probably a mental institution.

"Human trash," Stan hissed between his teeth. He tried to slam the door in Rosalyn's face, but she caught it and slammed behind her. Ari decided not to ask.

"You know, Stan," Rosalyn began wearily. "Just because some poor guy wants you to shut up doesn't mean you need to go completely insane."

Stan harrumphed. "Well, he'll think twice before messing with Evil King Stan, again! You! Slave! Where've you been?"

Before Ari had a chance to answer, Rosalyn broke in. "Probably trying to get away from you!"

They glared at each other for what seemed like hours, but apparently they had exhausted their respective supplies of insults for the time being. Eventually, Stan retrieved his tourist pamphlet, and Rosalyn flopped onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. Ari stared at the window and fidgeted for a while. Part of him wished that something would happen, but another part was afraid that anything happening would set Stan and Rosalyn off again. Ever since coming back from the World Library, Stan had been unusually peevish. He was always quick to anger, or at least to shout juvenile obscenities, but lately he'd been considerably worse.

After some time during which the storm was the only noise, Rosalyn sighed and decided to risk her life. Or her sanity. Whichever broke first. "So how did you figure out Illisaith's name?"

Ari cringed, expecting another outburst, but Stan actually seemed pleased that someone had asked finally. "There, you see?" he said. "You try to tell me you think I'm stupid, then you come seeking my intelligence. You women are all just walking contradictions, aren't you?" He paused, but rather than wait for an answer that probably was not forthcoming anyway, he continued.

"Images are created using some pretty complex magic spells. Normally, they are completely loyal and without thought until you name them. And as he said, 'Name a thing, and you give it life.' But James always was pretty useless when it came to any kind of magic except teleporting. Illisaith should have come out of that mirror answering only to me. In order for him to be able to attack like that, James would have to have given him some sense of self awareness. However in doing so, he completely screwed up the spells. My copy was able to think of ways to get around James, like telling that imp to tell us where they would be.

"Normally, the person casting the spells would weave the name of the creature into the incantations, but I had a feeling James hadn't bothered. It is possible to do the magic without a name, but the result is usually unstable. Illisaith shouldn't have lived as long he did, especially since I wasn't the one who cast the spells. It must have been the sense of identity James gave him. But whatever it was, that part of the spell that required a name was still open, so I made something up."

Rosalyn stared at him for several minutes. "All that just to tell us you made it up? You really do like to hear yourself talk, don't you?"

Stan smirked and went back to his pamphlet. "You know, what you should have asked was what James wanted up there."

"I thought he wanted the power of Classification." Stan shook his head smugly and said nothing. After several seconds, Rosalyn huffed. "What did James want up there?"

"The power behind Classification. The power that kept Beiloune and Marlene alive all these years, that allowed him to separate this part of the world from the rest to begin with."

"You know, you can stop being mysterious any time now?"

Stan glared. "Well, then, maybe I don't want to tell you anymore!"

"I want to know," Ari piped up. "Master Stan," he added as Stan looked ready to tell him off for his impertinence.

Properly appeased, Stan nodded. "Supposedly, a long time ago, there was a being called the Eclipse. Actually, that's not a very good translation. It was an old word that meant both light and darkness at the same time, but no one remembers it anymore. Anyway, according to the legend, Eclipse was sealed away by a dark power, probably Beiloune."

"So you think James was looking for this…Eclipse?" Rosalyn asked dubiously.

"I don't believe it actually exists, if that's what you're asking," Stan responded scathingly. "But James has always been a little slow. I would have gotten rid of him years ago…I guess I should say centuries…if Classification hadn't kept me from properly noticing. It wouldn't surprise me if Natasha had sent him on some wild goose chase."

They lapsed into contemplative silence, and on all their minds was the same question: what was Natasha really up to?

"Hey!" Stan said suddenly. "The rain's slacking off. Slave!"

"I know, I know," Ari said resignedly. "Fetch dinner."

"Ha! See, now? That's how a slave should act."

"Stan, don't send him out in this weather. Ari, you sit right back down."

"It's alright, Ros," Ari said quickly before Stan could get started. "I'm hungry anyway."

Rosalyn stood. "Fine, then. I'll come with you."

"No, it's okay, really," Ari argued. He sidled closer to mutter in her ear, "Someone's got to keep an eye on him."

"What are you saying about me?" Stan demanded as Rosalyn snickered.

"If you're sure…" she asked, ignoring him. Ari nodded. Moments after leaving the room, he heard the altercation pick up again. Really, he was more than happy to get away.


	15. Ch15: Shadow vs Mirror

Ari awoke to a foot in his ribs and blearily wondered why he was on the floor. The day before had quite possibly been the worst day of his life, even topping the time he had spent being invisible to the world at large. Stan was downright dangerous when he got bored. He'd started out normally enough, picking fights with an increasingly irascible Rosalyn. After a while, even that started to bore him, much to everyone's mistaken relief.

After flipping through his tourist pamphlet for the umpteenth time, he threw it onto the floor and incinerated it. This gave rise to his last verbal sparring match with Rosalyn, an event that culminated into her parasol becoming a small bonfire. Thus began a rapier/magic battle that crashed into three different rooms before going through a wall and into the rapidly rising river that had previously been the street.

Forty-five minutes later found eight Hero's Club members in a sorely misguided attempt to stop the fight. They clearly didn't realize who they were dealing with, and only the raging downpour sparred them from sharing the fate of Rosalyn's parasol. Thirty minutes after that found at least fifty Heroes getting in each other's ways as every single one of them tried to single-handedly defeat what was without a doubt an Evil King. Another five minutes, and Rosalyn was the only one still fighting Stan. Ten minutes, and she was the only one left standing, much to Stan's humiliation.

Unanimously deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Rosalyn, Ari, and a soundly defeated and surprisingly subdued Stan had fled Madril and spent the rest of the night in the entrance to the Escapeless Abyss.

Oh yeah.

When Ari failed to respond to the first attempt to wake him, he felt a second, slightly harder nudge, which was followed by a third.

"Stan, quit kicking him," said Rosalyn irritably. "Honestly, you are such a child." This pronouncement was followed by complete silence.

Ari rolled over and rubbed his eyes to see Stan now leaning half-heartedly against the cave wall. He caught Rosalyn's eye in a questioning glance, and she shook her head. "He's still pouting because I beat him," she said disgustedly.

"Shut up," Stan whined. Ari grinned and laughed quietly behind his hand. He was half-tempted to offer his sympathies, but that would have just made Stan pout even more.

"That'll make a great headline," said a familiar voice. Stan groaned as Mr. Big strode into the cave. "I can see it now. 'Evil King Stan Gets Beaten By A Girl.' We'll make a mint."

"Hey, I resent that!" Rosalyn exclaimed. "I'm a Hero, not just some girl."

Stan, continuing to sulk, did not try to defend himself.

Mr. Big laughed. "Easy, lady. I mean no disrespect. Of course, we'd print that; just not in the headline. But I'm here for a different headline."

"What are you going on about now?"

"How about 'Evil King Stan Apologizes To Rashelo: Helps Rebuilding Efforts'?"

"What?" Stan demanded, turning quickly. "How dare you even think about printing garbage like that? I'll-!"

"Stan, could you possibly be quiet for two seconds?" Rosalyn yelled, conveniently forgetting about past twelve hours. She turned back to Mr. Big. "What are you talking about?"

He chuckled self-importantly. "Well, now, I know what's true, obviously, but I also know how it looks when an exact copy of Stan here starts helping people."

There was a second of complete silence, then, "DAMN HIM! I'm going to kill that blasted Image if it's the last thing I do! Come on, slave. To Rashelo!" Without waiting for anyone else, including his slave, he stormed out of the cave.

"Well, at least he's not sulking anymore," Rosalyn muttered. "I better go after him. Thanks for coming out here."

"No problem, lady," Mr. Big said affably. "Better than you three trying to come back into town. Just try not to knock out the front wall of my building next time, hm?" He bowed ironically and left.

"Oops," Rosalyn said quietly, although she couldn't help but smile. "Actually, I think Stan did that. Oh well. Come on, Ari." The two of them hurried after Stan before he could do any more damage.

* * *

Illisaith wiped the sweat from his forehead and stared into the distance. He didn't really want to be here and was beginning to regret his offer. He had expected Stan to show long before now, but maybe the word was just taking longer to reach him than anticipated. A sound like a thousand tiny bells arrested his attention. Star's chiming was becoming increasingly discordant in testament to her increasing unease. She did not like being stared at.

Whole families had returned to rebuild Rashelo; the sheer number of tents and campsites made up a small city. They hadn't trusted Illisaith at all, and still didn't really. It was Star who swayed them. She had not spoken to them, nor had she done anything, really. It was something about the way she had peeked out from behind him like a scared child, the way she had clung to him for protection. Nothing so precious and beautiful could possibly be evil, they thought, so they had reluctantly accepted Illisaith's help. They continued to look at him as though they thought he might go berserk at any moment, but they were beginning to trust him.

Now, if they would just get it in their heads that he wasn't Stan…

Oh, they knew his name by now, but they still didn't seem to understand the difference. Or even that there was one.

Star chirped and drifted closer to Illisaith. "Part of me knows they mean no harm," she said quietly. "Yet another part commands me to flee. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Illisaith agreed kindly. "I understand. 'Once bitten, twice shy.'"

"Yes, exactly." She looked around at the children who were trying to play, help, and gawk at the same time. "I used to love children…They are so innocent…" She shook herself and drifted a few inches in their direction.

Illisaith laughed quietly and started to go back to the bridge he had been attempting to assemble. He hadn't made much headway when something caught his attention; he looked up and smirked. "So there you are."

"Ah, your counterpart is arriving," Star noted. "Perhaps we should go to meet it."

"Don't worry; I'll lead him away."

"I do not believe I condone this part of the plan…"

They watched as a liquid black form raced across the ground. Far behind it, they could just barely make out two running figures, doomed to fail in their attempt to stop the grand war that was about to follow. A few villagers noticed the inky darkness accelerating toward them, but it still required Stan in his shadow form to tower twenty feet above everyone else before they realized they needed to scream and run.

"You!" Stan roared, shrinking back down to be eye-level with Illisaith. He gestured grandly as he shouted. "You would dare to make a mockery of moi, Evil King Stan!"

"Temper, temper," Illisaith replied with fiendish grin. He took his own shadow form and, sinking to the ground, sped back the way had Stan had come. Stan cursed loudly and colorfully before following suit, leaving Star to follow at a more sedate pace.

"Darn it, Stan!" Rosalyn yelled as the pair of shadows shot past. "Would you just calm down? Oh, why do I even bother? It's official. I no longer care." And with that proclamation, she sat on the ground and folded her arms.

"Uh…hey, Ros?" Ari said distractedly. As she looked in the direction he was pointing, she felt compelled to stand up again. Keeping one eye on the two humans, Star flew quickly past. She chirped and chimed for Illisaith not to bait Stan even though she knew he couldn't have heard. Suddenly, she stopped and turned quickly.

"I do not like war," she said tensely. "I do not wish the young one to be harmed. Will you not stop them?"

She sounded so childlike and desperate. Although she hated herself for doing it, Rosalyn shook her head. "Honestly, I don't think we can. Stan won't listen to either of us at the best of times."

Star made a noise like countless bells crashing to the floor and fled after the two combatants with Ari and Rosalyn just a few steps behind.

* * *

Illisaith could not keep running forever, nor did he intend to. Stopping, however, was a contingency he had failed to plan for. Finally, he simply pulled his three dimensional form back together and threw himself out of the way as Stan raised up to swipe at him. He, too, became solid again and started throwing energy shots. Illisaith grinned to himself; he might not have the experience to win a real fight, but he didn't need it to hold his own against Stan. He was, after all, the Shadow Evil King's reflection. All he had to do was what he did best: mirror his subject.

He dodged behind a rock to ready a shot and threw it at Stan, forcing him to stop momentarily. Now on equal footing, Illisaith ran back out. The actual battle had finally begun.

Stan belatedly realized that this might not have been the best plan he had ever had. As he began firing again, Illisaith started firing back. He dodged, but he needn't have since the shots simply met each other and exploded harmlessly. Illisaith would match whatever he did, which meant that he would be completely unable to do anything unexpected. Fortunately, this also meant that his reflection couldn't be unexpected, either.

Stan stopped firing and simply lunged at Illisaith, who met him half-way. They grappled for several minutes while he tried desperately to remember what that book had said. He decided to switch tactics ever so slightly and count on his own incessant need to have the last word throw Illisaith off. "Just give it up," he snarled. "A copy like you doesn't have a prayer against the original Evil King Stan."

He felt Illisaith falter slightly and managed to throw him to the ground.

Recovering quickly, Illisaith threw himself into Stan and pulled him down as well. "The Mirror Evil King doesn't need to pray anyway," he sneered. As expected, the title he had claimed sent Stan into an apoplexy.

"You…you…dare…!" Stan stammered, almost too angry to speak. "I am the one and only Great Evil King Stan! All others are fake, wannabe imposters!"

In order to not imitate everything Stan said, Illisaith had to switch between mirroring and not mirroring. Consequently, he slipped again and missed where Stan shoved power through him, blasting him several feet away.

"So that's how it's going to be?" Illisaith growled, standing. "Fine then. Tremble at the awesome power of Mirror Evil King Illisaith!" Illisaith was done playing games, but so was Stan. They began using exactly the same attacks in exact unison, and succeeded in nothing more than tiring themselves out.

"You begin to understand, now, don't you?" Illisaith said as they were both forced to stop and catch their breath. "I don't need to beat you to win. I just need to wear you down." Stan narrowed his eyes and said nothing. If Illisaith was announcing his grand plans, then he wasn't mirroring. He was chagrined to realize that it was his own faults he was seeing in his reflection and wondered if he was really that stupid. Not that he would ever have said that aloud.

So, keep him talking then. "That's a pretty stupid plan considering we're going to wear down at the same time," he said contemptuously.

"Not if you consider that I'm more interested ruining your reputation than salvaging my own." He scoffed, and it almost sounded mournful. "I don't even have one; everyone thinks I'm you. And I'll make sure you pay for that."

"You idiot!" Stan laughed. All during the exchange, he'd been gathering power. Now, he threw it. Illisaith was not expecting it, although he had to kick himself for that later. It's what he would have done, after all. By the time he recovered, Stan was back in shadow form. Now hopelessly out of sync with his subject, Illisaith tried to catch up by changing to his own shadow form. He wasn't quite fast enough.

Stan backhanded Illisaith and sent him sprawling, but he recovered quickly enough to avoid being caught in the small electrical storm Stan had cast. He returned with a blaze spell that caught Stan but did next to no damage to his incorporeal body. Laughing maniacally, Stan cast blaze back at Illisaith.

Illisaith belatedly realized that this might not have been the best plan he had ever had. Their power level may have been the same, but that was it. Apparently, there is no real substitute for experience. Stan swatted Illisaith and sent him flying straight into a rock, and that might have been the end of him if a deafening cacophony hadn't chosen that moment to intervene.

"You will not harm it!" Star exclaimed, imposing herself between them. Rather than wait for any kind of a response from either of them, she curled into a hovering ball.

Stan was confused for about a second, until he felt the energies being gathered in that small body. Egotistical as he was, he didn't think even he could survive the attack about to come. He was about a dozen feet away and back in his true form when Star suddenly threw open her arms and unleashed a wave of power that threw him to the ground. His first thought was that he was dead. His second thought was that he'd better not have to spend the rest of eternity listening to that voice.

Rosalyn was shrieking with laughter, doubled over and barely able to breath. Ari was making a valiant effort not to do likewise as he helped Stan to his feet. "I'm not an invalid, slave," Stan growled, pushing him away. He narrowed his eyes and glared at Star, but his words were meant for Illisaith. "So you need this overgrown firefly to fight your battles for you?" he sneered.

"Better than relying on a worthless human slave!" Illisaith shot back without thinking. He didn't notice Star cringe and shy away from him.

"ENOUGH!" Rosalyn yelled, startling both of them into actually shutting up. "That's it! I can't take it anymore. One of you is more than enough. You," she pointed at Stan, "go settle down. And you," she rounded on Illisaith, "go deal with her."

Illisaith started guiltily as he remembered Star. She was hiding behind the rock, chirping quietly. He tramped down the desire to save face in front of his audience and started whispering about being sorry and other, more nonsensical things while he tried slowly and carefully to draw Star back out. Stan snickered; Rosalyn smacked him.

Star continued backing away, and Illisaith was forced to pursue her almost all the way around the rock before he could convince her to calm down. Finally, she did, however, and the two came back out.

"What is she?" Ari asked quietly.

"Have you ever heard the story of a creature called the Eclipse?"

Stan scoffed. "That's the Eclipse?"

Illisaith glared but managed to restrain his comments. "No, this is the Radiant Star. The light half."

Rosalyn started to speak, but Stan cut her off. "You really expect me to believe that thing is half of the Eclipse?" Illisaith smirked in response.

"So if there's a light half, does that mean there's a dark half, too?" Rosalyn was finally able to ask. Illisaith started to answer, but Star put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"It is my story," she said, shyly coming out from behind him. "Perhaps I should tell it."


	16. Ch16: An Ancient Legend

The universe is a chaotic place, held together by one thing: balance. All things exist because of balance. If there were no light, there could be no darkness. Without evil, there is no good. One cannot exist without the other, for without that balance, the concept could not even be conceived of. All things are divided into two halves, represented by the colors black and white. White has long been considered the symbol of light and creation. Conversely, black has always stood for darkness and destruction. It is at this point that a common misconception comes into play.

* * *

Long ago, there was an island populated by a tribe of people that called themselves _U'th'tagar_. They built their village at the base of the island's volcano and journeyed every morning to the summit for prayer. What they prayed to, or why, or even what their name meant is long forgotten. One day, the volcano erupted and their village was wiped out.

Thousands of years after this tragic event, a small party of archeologists arrived to unearth the ancient ruins and learn about the culture. Heading this party was a woman named Catharine; by her side were her husband Beiloune and their young daughter Marlene. The repercussions from that ill-fated trip would be felt for centuries to come. How odd it was, that the mountain should choose to erupt for a second time the very day they arrived.

Beiloune remembered nothing of the ordeal save for the endless screaming. He regained consciousness coughing and spluttering face down a few yards from the shore. He had no idea how he had gotten there or why. He didn't even remember his own name, at first. Then he heard his daughter screaming and it all came rushing back: the eruption, the screams, the endless sea of burning red, his wife's face as she was engulfed…

Marlene screamed for him again, and he snapped out of his trance and swam for the shore where she threw herself into his arms and cried. Even though she was only five and had no real concept of what had happened, she knew she was terrified.

"Daddy!" she wailed. "Where's mommy? Where's mommy, daddy?"

"Hush, sweetie," he murmured back. "Mommy had to go away for awhile." He couldn't feel anything. Part of him knew this was shock; part of him didn't care. He gazed blankly ahead while he stroked her hair. All he could see was his wife's face twisted in agony as the slow-moving scourge consumed her body. Part of him thought that it was just him and his daughter now, and something in his head snapped.

* * *

Things must die for new things to be born. Conversely, when something is born, it destroys a small piece of what created it. It is simply the way of things. Destruction is not always evil, and creation is not always good. People often forget that.

* * *

At the very top of the world where night and day divide the year in half, there was a small mountain of ice. Beneath this great glacier was a temple to a creature who's name is long forgotten. At the very center of the temple was an altar, still intact despite the millennia that had passed since its creation. Embedded in the stone was a symbol, half white and half black separated by a thin field of silver and surrounded by a silver sunburst.

Catharine had found this place on one of her many journeys and had brought Beiloune to see it once. She had told him the story of Eclipse, the embodiment of balance. They had spent the night by that altar keeping each other warm. He came back now, not to remember but to act. It was one year after events at the island.

Beiloune had never been one to believe in magic and fairy tales, but desperation had brought him here seeking the power. He knew he could never revive his Catharine; his purpose now was a way to keep himself and his daughter from sharing her fate. There was an incantation; he had practiced for many long hours before coming here and recited it without flaw. Then he waited.

He waited forever and a day in that cold place and would have continued until he joined his late wife if necessary.

After a while, it occurred to him that the way the light glinted off the symbol made a very beautiful pattern. He stared at it, mesmerized, until he realized he was no longer alone. Two creatures stood to either side of the platform. One gave off a soft, white glow; the other seemed to pull the light down into endless darkness. They were vaguely human in nature, with four insect-like wings and too-large blue eyes.

He decided he was hallucinating and couldn't seem to care.

The creatures twitched their wings and emitted a sound like a bell choir. Then they spoke in perfect unison. "Long has it been since mortals tread in this most sacred place. Why, then, do you seek us, now?"

Beiloune was awestruck, and it was quite some time before he could answer. "I…I need your help…"

"Long has it been since mortals conspired to upset what we represent. We are balance. We give help, but not as you ask, for to do so would upset balance. Be gone, mortal."

Beiloune shook his head in denial. "No. I've come all this way. The least you can do is hear me out." When the creatures did not respond, he licked his lips and continued. He was certain they would help. "My wife was killed by a freak accident. I'm not asking you to revive her. I know that can never be done. She wouldn't be the same even you did. But please. My daughter is all I have left. You must protect her; grant her immortality, so that she can never suffer like her dear mother."

"The world is cruel," the Eclipse answered sadly. "We regret your loss. But we cannot grant your desire. If your offspring were to never suffer, it would never learn, never grow. That is balance. All good things have their price, but all bad things come with good. Learn from your mate's sacrifice. Cherish your time with your offspring. Learn to live with the balance, for there is peace there."

Beiloune was shocked; he had been so certain that they would understand that his wife's death had upset his balance, and that only knowing his daughter would always be safe would restore it. Still, he had planned for this contingency.

"If you will not give me your help," he said heavily. "Then you force me to take it."

For the first time since he arrived, only half of the Eclipse spoke. "What can a mere mortal do to us?" the dark half asked derisively.

The light half turned to it and said, "Brother, speak not out of turn. It is in pain."

"It is a fool. Pain is good for the soul."

Beiloune took the moment awarded by their distraction to ready a device he had created. Having nothing to properly test it on, he couldn't be entirely certain it would work on the Eclipse. In theory, it would knock them out long enough for him to put a set of restraints on them. Of course, he had no way to test the restraints either. If this worked, he would never have to worry about Marlene again. If it did not…

Well, he'd be too busy being dead to worry.

He fired the gun-like weapon; it worked brilliantly, as did the restraints. It was almost like he was meant to capture the Eclipse. He took it as a sign that the gods he had just now decided to believe in approved of his plan.

* * *

Creation is not always a good thing. In fact, at times, it can be downright evil.

* * *

Beiloune knew what he was going to do long before he did it. He had spent a full year planning for the possibility that the Eclipse did not share his view. There was a small corner of the world, somewhat cut off from the rest. There were people living there, and plenty of towns. It was the perfect place for his daughter to play for as long as she liked.

He built the World Library and used the Radiant Star to power it. With that power, he created Classification and opened a door into the realm where demons dwell. Deep in the heart of the part of the Diablerie called the Necropolis, he built a second World Library powered by the Lightless Void. Using that power, he was able to Classify the demons he allowed into the mortal realms to make his daughter's game interesting. Nothing could harm her there as long as those two Libraries remained standing. They would live forever in the playground he created for his little princess.

* * *

Destruction is not always pleasant, but it is often necessary for the facilitation of evolution. In a place where nothing can be destroyed, nothing can grow. Nothing can learn. Nothing can happen.

* * *

Hundreds, possibly thousands of years went by, each day exactly the same as the one before.

Blessed monotony…


	17. Ch17: Relfections of the Soul

Star chirped a few times and fell silent. She continued to hover more or less behind Illisaith but was slowly, almost unconsciously, drifting toward Rosalyn. Her light had dimmed, possibly from worry and possibly from shame.

After a long, contemplative silence, Rosalyn said, "It must have been horrible to be trapped for so long."

Star seemed to shrug. "To be trapped, yes. But to be alone was worse. Lightless Void is a part of me; we are two halves of a single entity." With an unreadable, but probably impish, glance between Stan and Illisaith, she added, "Mirror images."

As one, Stan and Illisaith scoffed derisively, then glared at each other. Ari hid a smile as Rosalyn rolled her eyes. Star pealed with laughter. She was beginning to like these two humans: Ari, so quiet and good-natured; and Rosalyn, who so devoutly followed Star's own path. She and her brother had once walked openly among humans. They had been loved, revered, and they loved the humans back. Those days were long gone, now, but she missed them. It had been aeons since she had met a decent human, let alone a likable one. It was like being home again…

Then there was Stan. Void would like Stan, but Star didn't think she cared much for him. She had expected him to be like Illisaith. Granted, he had told her that he was very pointedly trying not to be Stan, but she hadn't known exactly how different they would be. Illisaith was blunt and rude, but he was only mean when he forgot himself. Stan, by contrast, was evil incarnate, and would have been flattered to hear it. He didn't strike her as the type of person who would ever give a genuine smile like Illisaith occasionally did. She liked Illisaith. Most of the time. She didn't like Stan.

She chirped in embarrassment as she realized that she hadn't been listening to the last several minutes of conversation.

"Well, I think we should help her," Rosalyn was saying.

"Well then, you go right ahead," Stan responded. He made a shoo-ing motion at her. "I'm going after James and Natasha."

"You do that then. Ari can come with me."

"Hey, he's my slave! He stays with me!"

"He's not your slave, idiot Evil King!"

"Ah, not again," Ari moaned.

"What was that, slave?" Stan barked.

"Nothing, Your Majesty…"

Appeased for the moment, Stan went back to his regularly scheduled squabble with Rosalyn. Illisaith was laughing quietly, though at who exactly was still up for debate. Star drifted towards Ari and whispered, "Are they always this?"

He grinned. "Nope. They're usually worse."

"I do not understand how you can enjoy its company," she said in a confused disharmony. "It is not a very pleasant human."

Stan may have been ignoring everything else around him except his argument with Rosalyn, but he heard that. He whirled around. "How dare you call me human?"

Star squealed and fled to the safety of Illisaith. "Back off," he snapped. "Or I'll make you regret it."

While Stan decided whether he'd rather be scathing or insulting, Rosalyn said in an attempt to sooth, "Star, honey, Stan's a demon. Not a human."

"A…demon…?" Star asked, her voice quaking. "Young one, you lied to me!" She backed away quickly.

"I never claimed to be a human reflection!" Illisaith objected, injured by the accusation.

"A lie by omission is still a lie!" She shot straight into the sky and fled to the north, across the lake. Illisaith yelled for her and started to follow.

"Why bother?" Stan asked with great disdain.

Illisaith about-faced. He seemed almost as enraged at that moment as he had when he'd first been allowed to turn on James. "Maybe I'm not like you," he growled menacingly. "Maybe I care about her." He changed to his shadow form and sped after her without waiting for the response he knew would follow. He knew what the response would be, anyway, since he was hearing it in his own head. That voice was getting much easier to ignore.

"Wow…" Rosalyn breathed, looking after him. "He's really not like you."

"And good riddance, too," Stan grumbled. "Now, if James is looking for…"

"You really don't care about anything other than yourself, do you?" Rosalyn interrupted him. Ari groaned inwardly and wandered a few feet away. This wasn't going to end well.

Stan gave her a look of pure incredulity and replied in obvious confusion, "What else is there to care about?" Ari sighed in cautious relief. Maybe it wouldn't be a replay of Madril after all.

Apparently, Rosalyn had been expecting her blurted question to spark an argument, as well. She opened her mouth to speak, remembered she was talking to an Evil King, and shook her head instead. "Never mind," she said wearily. "What were you saying?"

Stan glowered for a few moments more. "I was saying, they probably went to the Library in the Necropolis to find this Lightless Void." He grew thoughtful. "Of course, to have done that, they would have to have found another way in."

"Could they have repaired the Stone Circle?" Ari asked since Rosalyn did not appear inclined to.

Stan gave Rosalyn a bemused glance before turning his full attention to his slave. "Not unless they managed to dupe some fool Hero into doing it, and then he would have to have power like Porky's." He glanced side-long at the object of his latest jibe; she just looked back at him, completely unimpressed. He almost seemed disappointed.

"So how're you guys going to get there, then?" Rosalyn asked.

This was very unlike Rosalyn. "You're not going to demand to come?" Stan burst out without thinking.

She folded her arms and shrugged. "Well, I can't, right? That's what KT said."

This time, Stan's disappointment was in obvious evidence, although he didn't realize it. Rather than pursue the matter, however, he motioned to Ari to follow and started walking toward the Transverse Tunnel that would take him back to Triste and, more importantly, the ruin on the other side. Rosalyn watched them go; they actually made it almost twenty feet before her conscience kicked in, and she ran after them.

"How can you stand him?" Rosalyn asked Ari after Stan's latest attempt to get her to argue with him.

Ari shrugged. "I dunno. You get used him after you're forced to be around him for a while."

"What are you saying about me?" Stan demanded from somewhere ahead. He was actually walking for a change of pace.

Rosalyn bit her lip. She was not going to argue with him. She wasn't. Under any circumstances. She took a deep breath and went back to her conversation with Ari. "But he's so…so…"

"Annoying? Aggravating? Irritating?" Ari laughed. "Believe it or not, he's not that bad usually."

"That's the only way I've ever seen him."

"Yeah, of course. He has a reputation to maintain. He can't be seen being decent to a Hero; what would people say?"

Rosalyn covered her mouth to smother her laughter. "So he's only like that when I'm around, is that it?"

"Eh, not just you. It's everybody. I see him when he's being himself, though. I'm just the slave, remember; it doesn't matter what I think about him."

Rosalyn gave this a great deal of thought. Just when she thought she had it all figured out, one of them said or did something, and she had to discard all her theories to make new ones. She thought she actually had it this time. "So…that's why you continue to obey him?"

Ari shook his head. "Kind of, I guess. Mainly though, it's because he saved Annie from that pig latin curse. He said he'd do it if I would be his slave for life. He held up his end of the deal."

Rosalyn glared at the ground. She was so sure she had that time. She knew Ari was a noble boy; he would have made a good Hero. But she had never actually thought of that before, that he might continue to be Stan's servant out of a sense of honor. It was kind of ironic. "But…he doesn't even care…"

Ari shrugged again and remained silent. The fact was, he knew Stan did care. Stan had, frantically and violently, gone out of his way to save Ari's life when it would have been considerably easier and more economical to simply find a new slave. It was not the first time the Evil King had done something to accidentally prove he cared, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

But he couldn't exactly say that to Rosalyn, could he? Especially with Stan just a few feet away. Stan might throw a tantrum and starting pouting again. Ari tried to hide a grin and failed miserably, but no one was paying attention anyway.

Moving over water was not fun. Illisaith was trying to stay on top of it where he could see Star, but it was taking a great deal of effort. It wasn't as though he was heavy as a shadow; he had no weight to speak of. He wasn't sure what it was about water, but he had long since decided that he didn't like it. He was getting tired. Fortunately, it looked like Star was slowing and loosing altitude.

He finally caught up to her on a strange beach, a good hundred miles or so off every map in the region. "Star…" he panted, pulling himself out of the water and back into his true form. "Star…stop for two…two minutes…would you?"

She was kneeling on the ground; her wings twitched slowly, and she made a strange, sad sort of keening. Her light was so dim, it had almost gone out. Illisaith cursed himself for nine kinds of a fool as he dragged his feet up the beach to collapse next to her. "I didn't…mean to lie to you…" When her only response was to raise the volume of her keening, he continued. "I didn't even…think about it…Come on, Star…"

That little voice in the back of his mind that belonged to Stan grew louder as he tried to catch his breath. It wanted to be angry. In fact, it wanted to be incensed. It wanted to make Star pay, though for what, it wasn't quite certain. He shoved it away, but still spoke a touch more forcefully than he meant to.

"What do you have against demons, anyway?" he demanded. "I not even a real one. I'm just a reflection of one."

"Demons are black, like my brother," Star whispered finally. "They destroy; they cannot create. I do not like demons."

Illisaith glared. "I'm not even a real one…" he said again. "Besides, how was I to know you couldn't tell? When's the last time you saw a human with pointed ears and yellow eyes?"

Star got very quiet, then. "I saw a human with jaundice, once," she said very slowly. "It had yellow eyes…"

Illisaith continued to glare.

"It points out my lapse in intellect in a most undesirable manner…" she muttered to herself. "Might brother young one grant pardon?" she asked sheepishly.

The little voice in the back of his head demanded that he despise her, no, destroy her for her insolence. He mentally stomped on it and gave one his rare, mockery-free smiles. "If you'll call me by my name, I'll forgive you," he teased.

Star's light flared brightly for a second before returning to normal. "Of course, brother young one."

Illisaith sniffed in mock indignation and crossed his arms, turning away. Suddenly, he found himself engulfed in light, sound, and heat and was nearly knocked to the ground. Star let go before he could formulate an objection, or even a desire to. "It was a human embrace," she said thoughtfully. "Do demons embrace?"

Illisaith thought for a moment. He was reminded of James and Natasha, but was uncertain whether or not that counted. "You know, I wouldn't know. Come on; let's go back. And when we get there, I'll teach you the nuances of gender."

"What is gender…?" Star asked, honestly perplexed. This was going to be a great trip…


	18. Ch18: A Ghost Made of Silver

"What is this place?" Rosalyn breathed.

Stan chuckled indulgently. "That's exactly the reaction I had when I first came here," he admitted. "The old man," he gestured at the skeleton, "called it the Silver Library. Back then, it was…"

"Was what?" Rosalyn asked, although she had a feeling she already knew.

Rather than answer, Stan walked up to one of the shelves. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he started to rub vigorously at the side of one of the panels. Ari and Rosalyn gathered around to see what he was doing. Although he couldn't clean it up properly (it had been tarnished for far too long), when he finally stepped away, there was a small area of what had obviously been silver at one time. The two humans looked around in growing awe.

"Is this all silver?" Ari asked as though he was afraid to ask.

Stan nodded. "The shelves, the floor, that desk. The torches used to burn silver, too, but I'm not sure that magic works anymore. Bring the light over here, slave Ari." He resumed leading them through the endless maze of shelves. "Although, I don't see why they wouldn't, since the books are still intact."

"We are going to be able to find our way back, right?"

Stan stopped again to glare at Rosalyn. "Maybe we should leave a trail of bread crumbs," he said snidely. "Of course, we are. What do you think, I'd get lost in my own home?"

Ari looked around in wonderment. "You used to live here?"

Stan nodded. Although he professed to hate being questioned, he actually loved it when people implied that he knew something they didn't. "How did you think I got so smart?"

"Wow, you're smart?" Rosalyn said. "I never would have guessed." She mentally cursed herself as Stan grinned happily. She really had not meant to start again. It was just habit. She did not care enough about Stan to continue the incessant controversy. She really, really didn't.

Really.

As expected, Stan tried to pick a fight again, but Rosalyn resisted the desire to fight back. Ari sighed patiently as Stan started to pout. He so enjoyed their arguments. At least, he was in a somewhat better mood. It had really bothered Stan to meet someone who was almost exactly like him in every way. But learning that he and Illisaith were surprisingly little alike after all seemed to have restored his usual good spirits.

Well, spirits, anyway. There wasn't much good about Stan. He was far too evil to tolerate being good anything. Although, one did have to wonder about him. He did fight evil, after all.

The increasingly sulky and puerile attacks on Rosalyn's mental faculties finally ceased when Stan announced that they had arrived in the general vicinity of the book he was looking for and decreed that he and Ari would take one side and Rosalyn could take the other.

"And what am I supposed to do for light?" she demanded.

Stan shrugged. "You're a Hero," he said mischievously. "I'm sure you must have all sorts of resources to draw from."

Her Hero powers, of course. She toyed with the notion of using them teach him a lesson, then remembered that she no longer cared. She had officially declared it. With a scornful glare at Stan's retreating figure, she turned to her half of the shelf and tried to summon some kind of light. "So can you at least give me a general idea of the title?" she asked as she triumphantly held up a bright little sphere.

"Probably something to do with magic travel, or teleporting," he answered after a few moments consideration. "Maybe portals or gates…And pull out anything you find on the Stone Circles, too. I doubt there's anything in those, but I don't want to disregard one and have it be the one we needed."

Rosalyn closed her eyes painfully and finally just gave in. "You talk too much."

A paused followed during which the sound of Ari failing not to laugh was the only noise. She could almost hear Stan glaring at him. At last, he decided that he'd much rather squabble than upbraid his slave. "If you don't want to listen to me, don't ask stupid questions," he pointed out. He almost sounded cautiously hopeful…

"Not that it helps. You talk anyway." She reached up to pull out a book that looked like it might have the word "gate" in the title, although she wasn't sure since it was in a different language. She heard Stan grumble something unintelligible.

"You should thank me, too, horse-face," he said, happily. "I could just keep my grand knowledge to myself. Instead, I have chosen to enlighten you lesser beings."

Rosalyn started to think of something to say, but a title distracted her. "What does…wa…wash…ahh…watash...ee no…uh…"

"Watashi no Tamagoyaki?" Stan asked, rattling off the title as though he'd been born to the language.

"Uh…sure…" Rosalyn agreed dubiously.

"What is a book of poetry doing over here?" Stan muttered as he slid under the shelf and startled Rosalyn. "It means 'My Omelet'," he translated, choosing to pretend he hadn't noticed in favor of acting superior. He changed back into three dimensions and took the book off somewhere, calling for Ari to bring the light.

"You're kidding," Rosalyn called after him. "That's a stupid title."

"It's a stupid poem," Stan yelled back. "Something about making an omelet out of tomatoes and octopi…"

"Sounds like something you'd write," Rosalyn muttered. She watched him go out of sight before she went back to the books. She had been slowly becoming aware of something, and now that Stan was out of sight, it hit her hard. She could still tell exactly where he was. This was a feeling that had been slowly getting stronger since they had healed Ari in the Highlands. She didn't really notice it while he was still where she could see him, but now that he was gone-

"Can I help you, my dear?" asked an ancient, papery voice. Rosalyn squealed and turned, her rapier already half out of its sheath before she realized she had been ambushed by an old man. His skin was the color and texture of aged parchment, and what hair he had left was whiter than Rosalyn's magic. He wore a set of threadbare grey robes as though their meager weight would pull him over at any moment. His eyes were a hazy white, and Rosalyn was startled to realize that he was blind or close to it. He didn't quite look her in the face when he spoke.

He let out a dry, rasping wheeze of what was supposed to have been laughter. "Beg pardon, my dear. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh, no," Rosalyn said quickly, shoving her rapier back it sheath. "I'm sorry. I didn't know there was anybody else here."

The old man waddled forward slowly to pat her on the shoulder. "It's alright, my dear. I know I must look like an ghost to someone so young." Rosalyn wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she smiled half-heartedly. The old man smelled strange, almost like cloves and something she could swear was embalming fluid. He made her nervous, and she couldn't imagine why. It almost felt like there was a ghost near.

"Who are you?" she asked, and kicked herself for her tone.

The old man didn't appear to notice. He wheezed again, and replied, "Anders, my dear. They used to call me Anders. So what can I help you find?"

"Oh, um…" Rosalyn wasn't exactly sure that he could help her find anything, but it seemed rude not to tell him. "Uh…My friends and I are…well, we have to find a way into…the Diablerie…" Saying it aloud to someone, it suddenly sounded ridiculously absurd.

"Ah," Anders said understandingly. He nodded his head and motioned for her to follow. "You're a few shelves off, my dear."

"Oh, because my friend said it would be there…" she trailed off as she realized that she had just unthinkingly called Stan a friend. It was a little late to change her mind, now, though. Oddly enough, she could have sworn she heard the old man mutter, "Since when did he have friends…?"

"Well, that's the start of it, yes," he agreed. Rosalyn dismissed what she thought she had heard as being her imagination.

"So how big is the travel section, then?"

Anders stopped in front of shelf and started scanning the titles. He gestured vaguely with his right hand. "See that broken column?" It was just barely visible in the gloom and distance, but she judged it to be at least fifty feet away. "Just this side of it. And about eight shelves deep, seven in a few places."

Rosalyn breathed a disbelieving sigh. "All that is just travel?"

Anders removed a book and pushed it into her hands. "My dear, there is no such thing as 'just' anything. This is travel through the ages, places you never want to see, places you should do anything to go to, the art of travelling both magical and astral…it's all here. This is the largest compendium of knowledge in the world, and I don't just mean our small part of it."

Rosalyn looked down at the book thoughtfully. It wasn't printed in a language she understood. "What's astral mean?"

Anders patted her arm again. "Perhaps you should let your friend tell you about it some time. I think I hear him returning with that boy of his. Adieu, my dear Rosalyn." It was several seconds before she remembered that she hadn't introduced herself.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" Stan demanded, rounding the corner of a shelf with Ari in tow.

"Oh…uh…found the book, I think…" She held it up for his inspection. As he took it, she told them both about her unnerving encounter. When she mentioned meeting the old man, Stan looked thoughtfully at the shelves. When she got to the part where he introduced himself, Stan looked at her quickly and glared for most of the rest of her narrative. By the time she was finished, his glare had changed slightly into a suspicious stare. "What?" she demanded.

It took him some time to answer. "…Nothing…I just don't recall telling you his name…"

"Uh…you didn't," she said, though not as scathingly as she had intended. The encounter and Stan's reaction to it was making her a little scared. She looked to Ari for moral support, but he was watching Stan who was now looking around warily.

Suddenly, Stan grinned and yelled out, "Hey, old man! Don't forget our bet! You still owe me twenty sukel for outliving you!" His words and laughter echoed ominously through the cavernous archive. His laughter always carried an evil undertone, but the echo coupled with his apparent loss of sense made him sound every bit the Great Evil King he constantly claimed he was. Ari shuddered and took a few steps back, but Rosalyn held her ground. It was almost scary to be reminded what Stan really was like that. No, there was no almost about it. He was so immature that it was easy to forget he was really an evil demon bent on world domination and/or destruction. It never failed to terrify when he suddenly reminded them so effectively.

"Are you quite through?" she asked. She was very proud of herself for sounding irritated when she was feeling so shaky.

Apparently, he noticed after all despite her best efforts. He leaned close. "Are you scared?" he asked in a low menacing voice. Well, between that wolfish grin and those canine fangs…

"Of course, not," Rosalyn managed to say disdainfully. Stan raised an eyebrow and glanced down slightly. She was about to be insulted when she realized he was actually looking at her hand where it was tightly gripping the hilt of her rapier. He chuckled venomously; she quickly let go and was abashed to hear it click as it settled back. She hadn't even known she was holding it, let alone that she had nearly drawn it.

Must restore normalcy…

"Why should I be afraid of a stupid fake evil being anyway?" she demanded.

For once, being called a fake did not throw Stan into an enraged paroxysm. Having finally succeeded in utterly terrifying his worst enemy, he was in far too good a mood to succumb to her perpetual prattling. He simply contrived to look highly superior as he gave a baneful sneer.

Rosalyn and Ari looked at each other. In silent agreement, they decided to huddle close together as Stan swept past. They didn't think he would actually do anything harmful, but it never hurt to be too careful. Rosalyn decided she could sacrifice her dignity in favor of her life and loosened her rapier again. Ari did not draw his sword; he trusted Stan a little more than Rosalyn did. But his insides felt like jelly after that display. He wondered if he should he rethink his conviction that Stan wasn't really that evil.

"Okay!" Stan said loudly in his usual caustic tone. The two humans relaxed, and Rosalyn dropped her hand. Stan had the book open as he walked and was squinting to read the pages. "I can't see to read. Slave, get up here." He set the book down on a tarnished table; Ari hastened a bit more than usual to bring the lamp to where Stan could see. "Right, then. I'd kill that old man if he weren't already dead." Stan shook his head. He paused as though waiting for some kind of outburst. When one was not forthcoming, he started to turn, changed his mind, and went back to the book with a renewed sense of self-worth.

"This is not a book about travel," he announced.

"Oh, just great," Rosalyn whined.

"Heh, much as I enjoy seeing you squirm, this is the book we need."

"You just said-"

"That it wasn't about travel," Stan cut her off. "At least, not precisely. It's about the Simulacrum. Let's see…something about mirrors and reflections…blah, blah, blah… Apparently, if it can be accessed from the Diablerie, we can get to it from here as well."

"How?" Ari asked squinting at the meaningless scribbles. He was astounded that Stan's idle boast about being fluent in all languages was actually somewhat true. After a second or two of complete silence, he glanced up slightly to find that he was being glared at by a pair of cold amber eyes. "Uh…Your Majesty," he amended.

Stan nodded tersely. "The Mirror World acts as a divider between the Diablerie and the mortal realms. The spells to create an Image like my would-be clone make a sort of temporary gateway there. Someone who knows how can open a doorway that real things can get through as well."

"Someone like Illisaith?" Rosalyn asked. At Stan's far-too-amused expression, she closed her eyes in exasperation. "Are you telling me that after coming all this way, we have to turn around and go all the way back?"

"No one forced you to come, blockhead."

"Oh, like I was going to leave poor Ari alone with you."

Ari rubbed his eyes; his shoulders shook with silent laughter. He was glad Rosalyn and Stan were arguing again, as strange as that sounded. The cold silence the Hero had been maintaining towards her rival had grown increasingly cumbersome. It had put Stan on edge not to be able to get a rise out of her, and Ari had suffered for it. He knew Rosalyn was still less pleased with Stan than usual, but this was a start towards getting things back to normal, at least.

As they walked past the desk that belonged to the ancient skeleton, Ari noticed something. "Hey, look," he said, pointing. "Was that there when we came in?"

At first, Rosalyn thought he was talking about the bony cadaver. Then she noticed Stan's expression soften and become quietly thoughtful as he walked over to where a crumpled and yellowing envelope stuck out from under what had once been its fingertips. He opened it carefully and grinned as he displayed a few bills totaling twenty sukel and a note written in a barely legible scrawl that read, "Cheater."

As they climbed the rope they'd lowered to reach the library, Rosalyn and Ari agreed that they had never been happier to see the last of a place.


	19. Ch19: Back and Forth

Illisaith was beyond astonished to hear a faint yet disturbingly familiar voice grumbling, "…getting really sick and tired of walking back and forth across the entire length of this stupid world of yours…" He stopped and tilted his head to listen for the rejoinder.

Right on cue: "You're not even walking. Why don't you think about poor Ari once and a while?"

"Who cares about him?"

"That poor kid…" Illisaith whispered. He couldn't help but find it humorous, especially since the boy was so tolerant of the abuse. Deciding to pretend that he was not aware of them yet, he went back to the deck he had been helping to erect. He had tossed his shirt and jacket aside and was now standing bare-chest-deep in frigid water. A few yards away, the former Bubble Evil King was completely submerged to aid in sinking some of the posts that would hold up the bridges. Farther out into the lake, the children were playing a strange kind of tag game with Star. It seemed to involve a lot of yelling about who was "it" and very little actual tagging. They were mainly just trying to leap out of the water high enough to catch Star, who kept flitting away.

"Hey, fake, wannabe Evil King," Stan yelled after they had gotten closer.

"Is he talking to me?" the giant fish monster asked as he re-emerged.

"No," Illisaith groaned. "He's talking to me. What do you want?" The last bit, of course, was yelled back as loudly as possible. He waded back to shore where he tossed his screwdriver onto a pile of sundry other tools and tried to pretend that he didn't notice Rosalyn stop suddenly and stare, although he wasn't certain how convincing he was. Stan didn't seem to notice, anyway, as he came back out of Ari's shadow.

"Having fun?" Stan sneered.

"Oh, yeah, it's great," Illisaith responded haughtily. He gestured at the construction and added, "I get to screw all day." Not a quip Stan would have gone with, but he found it hysterical nonetheless. Ari snickered. Rosalyn continued to stare; Illisaith continued to pretend he did not notice. "What do you want? Another fight?"

"Eh, maybe later," Stan shrugged. He was definitely back to normal. "I see you found your friend." He put a sarcastic twist on the word.

Illisaith bristled. "What's it to you?"

"Absolutely nothing. I just need to get into the Mirror World."

Illisaith couldn't take it anymore. Rosalyn's mouth had fallen open slightly. He decided to rescue her before she started to drool. "Trying to catch flies?" he taunted. She snapped her mouth closed and turned bright red.

Ari covered his mouth to hide his laughter, but Stan, being Stan, did not even bother. "She's not having a good life right now," he explained in mock sympathy. "I finally taught her to fear me."

"I am so not even scared of you, Stanley," she objected loudly. Then she grinned in as close an imitation of his most evil expression as she could muster. "It's kind of hard to be scared of someone who gets beaten by girl."

Illisaith threw back his head and laughed. "That headline was true?" he exclaimed delightedly. "You got beat by a girl? Tell me that was you, woman."

Rosalyn nodded happily. "You bet it was."

Ari was trying desperately not to laugh at Stan. It made things easier. But he couldn't stand it anymore. "An hour and a half," he said, ignoring Stan's scowl. "He beats off close to fifty Heroes in about five minutes and then gets trashed by Ros."

"Slave, I order you to stop laughing!" Stan yelled. Unfortunately, this only made everyone laugh harder.

"You should have seen Madril," Rosalyn went on. "Those poor people." She made a token attempt to stop laughing long enough to sound sympathetic, but it didn't work out.

"It was worse than what I did, I take it," Illisaith remarked.

"Oh, yeah," Ari agreed. "The entire bottom level, in ruins."

"Nice. Very nice."

The laughter finally drifted to a halt; Stan was pouting, which almost started it up again. "Are you children quite through now?" he asked sanctimoniously. "Can we finally get back to the reason we're even here?"

"Simulacrum, right?" Illisaith verified. He shrugged. "Well, I did know of one way, but I incinerated it after sending you there, so…"

"We thought you might be able to open a way in," Rosalyn said, cutting off Stan who was about to say much the same thing. Everyone ignored the griping and groaning that followed.

Illisaith scoffed. "He can't do it; what makes you think I can? Why do you even want to go there anyway?"

"We need to get into the Diablerie," Stan said, interrupting Rosalyn who glared. Apparently, it had become a contest to see who could explain first. "I think those fool traitors are there."

"Oh, okay. I am certainly all for killing them. Hey, Star!" She had been keeping one eye on the party while she continued to play. Now, she chimed discordantly as she hurriedly floated towards them. "No, everything's fine," Illisaith assured her. "Do you know how get into the Simulacrum or the Diablerie?"

She chirped a few more times, trilled a laugh, and replied in a more understandable language. "I know several ways to reach the Mirror World. Reality is very thin, you see, and easily torn through. But I do not know how to reach the black realms, I fear."

"Whatever," Stan said with a dismissive wave. "Just get us to the Simulacrum."

"It is not so easy, dark one," Star reproached him. "You may not care for the damage you cause, but I create. I will not destroy. While I can merely create a rift that will send you there, I would much rather create a doorway that can be sealed again."

"So you'll need a mirror," Illisaith muttered. "Great. Just keep it away from me."

"It would also be best if we journey to the location where such a door was made previously," Star continued. "Reality will be thinner there, and less damage will be caused."

"We?" Illisaith asked dubiously.

"Yes, we," Star answer loftily. She twittered and chimed for a long time at the end of which Illisaith shuddered comically.

"No," he whined. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Stan demanded.

"Like I'd tell you. Can I at least dry off first?" As he gestured at himself, still dripping wet, he pretended not to notice Rosalyn turn bright red again.

* * *

"Extrie! Extrie! Read all about it!" a newsie was calling out as the mismatched party entered Madril. "Evil King Stan Apologizes To Hero's Club!"

"What?" Stan exclaimed. He very nearly yelled at the boy, but decided that a certain other party member was to blame and was, therefore, a more fitting outlet for his wrath. "You…" he growled menacingly as he turned on an extremely self-satisfied Illisaith.

"That Mr. Big is an interesting fellow," Illisaith replied impishly. "He was more than happy to quote me on my world views. Too bad he keeps getting my name wrong…"

Ari looked at his shoes. He would very much have loved to retreat, but it wouldn't have helped since Stan had possessed his shadow, supposedly to aid in telling the difference between himself and his reflection.

"You must not fight," Star chimed. "Poor Ari is trapped between you. You must contrive to be pleasant."

"Why?" Stan demanded. "He's the slave; he's used to it."

Ari had to nod at that, but he gave Star a gratified look.

"Well, maybe he shouldn't have to be used to it," Rosalyn interjected. "I mean, look at him. He's afraid to even talk when you get like that."

"It's not that I'm afraid to…" Ari began, and was subsequently ignored by everyone but Star. She simply looked at him quietly as Rosalyn and Stan continued to bicker about him as though he was not there. She glanced at Illisaith who was overseeing the altercation with a strange look on his face. Once she realized the two combatants were not going to stop anytime in near future, she sighed, spread her wings, and emitted a sharp, high-pitched noise that made fingernails against a blackboard seem positively musical.

Rosalyn, Ari, and Illisaith clapped their hands over their ears; Stan cried out and fell back into Ari's shadow. "You will not fight!" Star asserted when she had their attention again. "Not with brother Ari among you! You do not see it…him when you fight."

"Ah, he's used to it," grumbled Stan's muffled voice from somewhere near the ground.

"It…he is sad for it, yes, young one?" Star held out her hand to Ari. "You must speak for yourself. I will do so no longer, for it is the same as they."

Ari suddenly found himself the center of everyone's undivided attention. Unfortunately, "everyone" included most of the people on the upper level by now. He looked around in bewilderment.

"Oh, for pity's sake," Rosalyn muttered. "Okay, everyone! Show's over! There is nothing more to see here. Go on about your business." She made slow headway against the grumbling crowd until Stan erupted from Ari's shadow to tower imposingly well above everyone's heads.

He raked his hand across the empty air and roared, "Get out of here!" The crowd dispersed very quickly. He returned to his normal size and glowered at Rosalyn as thought daring her to reprimand him.

Instead of rising to the challenge, she turned back to Ari. "Okay, I'm sorry we ignore you so much. What did you want to say?"

He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Um…well…I mean…I am kind of used to it…"

"There, see?" Stan said triumphantly.

"Shut up," Illisaith said menacingly. "I think I'm going to agree with Star on this one. Speak up, kid."

Ari glanced around again. It wasn't that he was shy, although he was. Seventeen years of barely being recognized as existing will do that to a person. He was quiet. He had always been quiet; he would always be quiet. Sure, he could talk when he wanted to. When it was just him and one or two other people, he was more than happy to join in the conversation. Unless one of the other people happened to be Stan. Then it sometimes got difficult. He sighed. "Stan makes me nervous," he admitted.

This pronouncement was followed by complete, disconcerting silence. He had fully expected an outburst from behind him and probably right in his ear, at that. Instead, he heard nothing. After a second or two, Rosalyn prompted him to go on.

It wasn't that he was afraid of Stan. He did not honestly believe that Stan was going to hurt him in any way, save possibly to deafen him. It wasn't that Stan treated him like a slave; he was Stan's slave, after all. And when it was just the two of them, he had absolutely no problem speaking his mind because Stan didn't care as long as Ari was respectful about it. It was just when Stan was around other people. He seemed to feel this persistent need to prove to everyone that he was evil and bossing Ari around and reprimanding him for every little thing was apparently the best way to do that. He did not want to say this out of fear that Stan would start in on him. No, fear wasn't the right word. Maybe cowardice was better.

"I don't like getting yelled at," he said quickly and winced slightly. The continued silence from the guy behind him was not as heartening as he thought it should have been. Still, he'd fallen this far into the hole. It couldn't possibly get much worse.

"And I don't like being called 'slave' all the time," he continued. "My name is Ari. And…I don't like getting interrupted." Well, no fear of that for the moment. No one else even looked like they were considering speaking. "And I don't like being ignored. Or having the two of you constantly argue like I'm not even here. Especially when it's about me. It's like I'm not even allowed to make my own decisions in life. I mean, I expect that from him," he gestured behind himself. "But he's my master because I agreed to it, and I'm sick of you constantly telling him off for it, Ros."

Rosalyn looked like she was about to apologize, but did not. Perhaps she was waiting for him to finish. Perhaps, she just realized she wasn't going to get the chance. Now that Ari had started, he was finding it difficult to stop again. He suddenly realized he was pacing and had been for some time.

He turned to actually face Stan. "And I'm sick and tired of you hiding in there and then complaining about being tired. I'm tired; you're not even doing anything!" Did Stan just cringe? "And I'm sick of how you're always going on about evil you are and throwing your weight around. It's like you have some kind of inferiority complex, or something. You actually feel threatened by a frickin' reflection!" He gestured at Illisaith, who had started laughing quietly. He agreed whole-heartedly to that statement. "And Rosalyn! And random people we meet on the street! And children!" Wait, was Stan's head somewhat lower than it had been thirty seconds ago? They were almost eye-level. "And I'm sick of the abuse! I know I'm worth more than that, and so do you!"

Ari turned around again and stared at his shoes. "I think I'm done," he muttered.

The enraged outburst continued to not happen. Rosalyn looked sheepish. "I'm sorry," she said very quietly.

It was on Ari's tongue to say that it was all right, but he couldn't seem to get the words out. It wasn't all right. Finally, he said just as quietly, "I forgive you…" He could do that, at least.

It was his turn to look sheepish now as he glanced at Illisaith...who was grinning… "Good show, kid," he said folding his arms. He meant it, too.

Ari shuffled his foot. "Uh…I didn't mean to call you…that…"

Illisaith made a dismissive gesture. "Eh, I don't care. It's true. Besides, you said it to provoke him, which I am all for."

"You are not very pleasant to your creator," Star teased. "Young Ari, does it not please you to have said what you have wished for long?"

Ari shrugged. He was all talked out now, but he felt obligated to say something. "I think I'd feel better about it if he'd say something."

There was definitely something wrong. He had given Stan multiple reasons to object forcefully. Now, rather than speak, Stan merely ducked back into Ari's shadow. It was difficult to read his expressions when he was in his shadow form, but Ari thought he was pretty good at it.

Stan was not pouting. Ari could not figure out what the continued silence might portend, but he was as certain of that as he was of anything. Stan was not pouting. He was not sulking. He was not having a tantrum. This was something serious.

"Um…" Rosalyn was hesitant to say anything now, but she needed to change the subject. The tension was almost a solid mass, and they needed to distract themselves with more mundane matters. Like where they were going to spend the night. "We're probably not going to make it to Tenel before dark, and I'm not sure I want to be there when it's dark anyway. So where are we going to stay tonight?"

"In the inn…" Illisaith ventured, wondering why she would ask something so bizarre.

"Uh…you mean the one Stan and I trashed?"

"Oh, right. We'll stay at the Mirage."

"You're kidding right?" Rosalyn asked. "That's a bar!"

Illisaith grinned. "It's an inn, too. I know the hostess; she owes me a favor." He beckoned them to follow.

"Do I want to know why the hostess at the Mirage owes you a favor?" Rosalyn asked suspiciously.

Illisaith did not stop, but he turned to give her another of his strange looks as he asked rakishly, "Why? Are you jealous?" Although this was not actually Stan, the ensuing dispute was apparently inevitable.


	20. Ch20: Hero Vs Mirror

The Mirage was an extravagant place. It was a bar, but it did have rooms for them to stay in. Granted, those rooms were not usually used for sleeping, but visitors to the city and displaced homeowners were in no position to be fussy. Illisaith had charmed his way toward acquiring three rooms. Letting Ari and Stan have their space seemed to be a good idea. Star and Illisaith had claimed a second room, leaving Rosalyn happily alone for the first time in weeks.

She dropped gratefully onto the lavish bed and sighed contentedly. It had been very strange watching Illisaith be charming. It was like watching Stan be anything other than mockingly caustic. She found it vaguely disturbing. Also disturbing were the strange looks the Image kept giving her. It almost reminded her of the looks a few of the boys had given her from time to time in the Hero Academy. The last thing she wanted to know was that Stan's reflection was attracted to her.

She had to admit, though. He looked really nice in Rashelo, dripping with water, and-

Stop now. She would grudgingly admit she had found him handsome, and that was it. She laid staring up at the ceiling for a while longer and tried to convince herself that she needed to get up long enough to take her sword belt off, at least…

Something was wrong.

Rosalyn sat up quickly just in time to see an ebony shadow slide under her door. "Stanley!" she yelled, standing and drawing her rapier in one fluid motion. Something told her that wasn't right. She was still hyper-aware of his location, and it was not right there.

Before her mind could continue to the next natural conclusion, a voice that sounded very much like Stan's spoke from somewhere in the depths of that darkness. "Survey says, 'guess again'."

Not a quip Stan would have gone with, and therefore a dead giveaway. "Illisaith?" Rosalyn asked. She lowered her rapier for about a second until her confusion decided to become anger again. "What are you doing sneaking into my bedroom?" she demanded, holding the point to his throat as he reformed.

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to," he answered in mock injury. His words may have expressed confusion, but his voice and expression belied it. He lightly grabbed the blade and stepped into it. "If it would please you to kill me, then do so, for I would have no greater pleasure than giving you yours."

Rosalyn wasn't sure whether to be hateful or flattered. She stared at him, trying to decide, for a very long time before she remembered he was still standing against the point of her rapier and sheathed it. "What do you want?" she bemusedly asked at last.

Illisaith grinned evilly. "Only to know that my affections are not given in vain."

This was, by far, already the strangest conversation Rosalyn had ever had. Illisaith was Stan. He was created by Stan, to be exactly like Stan, and even the fact that he was trying very hard not to be Stan did not change the fact like he looked and sounded and talked (for the most part, at least) exactly like Stan. "…Why?"

He walked toward her arrogantly, and she retreated until her back hit the wall, where she was forced to berate herself for her stupidity in allowing him to trap her. As she tried to figure out how to get free, Illisaith grabbed her chin and kissed her hard on the mouth. It was long, it was passionate, and Rosalyn thought she fell in love. Then she felt a little sick.

This was Stan! Granted, it was Illisaith, but it was still Stan. Although…Stan certainly never would have tried that. No, no, he wouldn't have…"YOU!" Rosalyn slapped him hard. He just laughed and backed away.

"It was worth it," he assured her happily.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing! You're just trying to use me to prove to everyone that you're not Stan!"

Illisaith sulked. "Hey, that's not fair! Anyway, I saw the way you were looking at me in Rashelo. You wanted that, and you know it."

"Don't you start trying to tell me what I want! What I want is for you to get out of my room!"

His eyes went dark. If this were Stan, she would have expected a fight, or at least an argument. But it wasn't Stan, and as he turned back toward the door, she let her guard down ever so slightly.

Looking back, she should have seen it coming.

She suddenly found herself forced against the wall, his arm against her throat and his amber colored eyes mere centimeters from her own. He caught her gaze and try though she might, she couldn't struggle. She couldn't even close her eyes as he invoked his powers of hypnosis.

"I could make you do what I want…" he murmured as her struggles slowly ceased and her eyes went blank.

Illisaith may have wanted to be as little like Stan as possible, but the very core of his existence was based on being evil, on taking what he wanted without regard for the consequences. He wanted Rosalyn. Every particle that made up what he was demanded that he go through with what he was thinking of doing.

It was with considerable difficulty that he let go. Rosalyn relaxed slightly as her brain kicked in again, then plastered herself to the wall and tried to reach the hilt of her rapier. Her arms still weren't cooperating.

Illisaith's expression was mostly unreadable. There was anger, but it seemed more toward himself than at her. He turned away from her and became a shadow again, then retreated back the way he had come.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he berated himself back in the room he shared with Star. "That was not supposed to go like that."

"Do I desire to know what occurred?" Star asked. "Or would silence be more prudent?"

To tell her, to tell her off, to ignore the question…half his mind commanded him to destroy something; the other half was trying to convince him to go back into Rosalyn's room. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor, crossed his arms over his knees, and dropped his head onto them. "It didn't go well," he said miserably.

"You are attempting to fight against what you are," Star said quietly. "It is a difficult battle to win. You did not…?"

"Hurt her? No." He sighed heavily. "I wanted to, though."

"But you did not, and that it is good. There is yet hope, yes?"

Illisaith scoffed. "Yeah, right. After that, I highly doubt it. She didn't like me to begin with; now, she probably hates me."

* * *

Rosalyn stood for a very long time staring at the place Illisaith had been standing. He had let her go. She had absolutely no power to resist him, and he had let her go. She couldn't help but wonder if Stan would have, then pushed the thought away. Illisaith was not Stan. He had almost given in to temptation, and had been furious with himself for it. Stan would never have tried that to begin with.

Rosalyn looked around the room hoping for some divine inspiration or intervention. When none was in evidence, she decided to ignore her better judgement and went quietly down the hall after Illisaith. She needed to know why.

The door opened the barest crack at her knock and more light than could be readily accounted for spilled into the hall. The door opened a little wider and a pair of ocean blue eyes peeked out. "You will not harm him?" Star asked quietly.

"I just want to talk," Rosalyn promised.

For a creature with only eyes to work with, Star had an amazing array of facial expressions. She seemed to grin hugely as she turned and chimed something.

"Huh?" Illisaith asked blankly.

"Rosalyn," Star affirmed.

Illisaith cursed and jumped to his feet, brushed himself off, and contrived to look the very picture of egocentricity. She didn't seem angry or hateful, but one could never tell with her. At least, he never could. After all, he had expected her to throw herself into his arms as soon as they were alone. He was still hurt from her accusation and angry with himself for what he almost did. He was fully expecting this to turn into a shouting match, and the way he was feeling right now, he would be more than happy to oblige. Actually, he didn't think he'd be able to resist.

"So what do you want?" he demanded quite a bit more sharply than he had intended. "If you're looking for an apology, you're not going to get one."

Star squealed slightly, and he winced. "Be pleasant."

"Star, do you mind leaving us alone for a minute, please?" Rosalyn asked without taking her attention off Illisaith.

"You, too, be pleasant," she answered as she slipped out the door and closed it behind her.

They glared at each other for a long time. Finally, Rosalyn broke the silence. "That wasn't very nice."

"Neither was what you did!"

"What did I do?" she demanded.

Illisaith sniffed haughtily and turned away. "Accusing me of insincerity."

"Hey, you! Look at me when I'm talking to you." He turned his head slightly but did not actually turn around to face her. She huffed and decided not to pursue the matter. "What am I supposed to think of you? Either you're Stan, or you're not Stan. You can't have it both ways."

He turned the rest of the way around. "I'm not trying to," he informed her. "I am trying very hard not to be him. I want to be my own person. What pissed me off was you accusing me of using you."

"Because that's the sort of thing Stan would do," Rosalyn finished for him.

"Exactly."

"So were you, or weren't you?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again just as quickly as it finally hit him what she was talking about. "You think I like you because he doesn't."

"Don't you?"

He grinned then, and started laughing. "Sure, okay, we'll go with that!" he agreed. "But just out of idle curiosity, if he really hated you as much as you think he does, do you think I, being him as you seem to think I am, could bring myself to even pretend that I liked you?"

Once Rosalyn had puzzled through the confused statement, the silence in the room became palpable. "You…have…got to be kidding me…" Rosalyn said quietly.

"I'm just saying," Illisaith answered. "It's worth thinking about."

"I don't think I want to anymore." Rosalyn shuddered in comical exaggeration. "So…just to make sure we're perfectly clear here, you were serious?"

He bowed ironically. "Woman, I am never serious," he answered impishly. "But I am sincere."

"Then stop calling me that," she demanded. "My name is Rosalyn."

Illisaith grinned in smug victory. "Tch. Whatever …Woman."

Some things never change.


	21. Ch21: Wondering and Remembering

Ari, being the considerate boy that he was, had left the lights on for Stan. This did not affect his ability to fall asleep in the slightest; he was mentally and physically exhausted, and more than ready for sleep. It was concern that kept him awake. He was afraid to apologize because he didn't know how Stan would react. Finally, however, he did drift off. Stan waited about an hour longer before he came back out and quietly appropriated an armchair.

Stan did not need sleep. At least, not tonight. His need for sleep was dependant entirely upon his power level, which was at its fullest. Consequently, he was restless. After staring at his slave reproachfully for what had to have been three days, but probably was not, he quietly got up and paced the room. He was half-tempted to go pick a fight with Rosalyn, but the sounds of muffled shouting coming from down the hall nixed that idea. Someone very annoying had already beaten him to it. He sighed heavily and sat down to stare at Ari some more.

He wanted to think about what the boy had said, but his mind kept shying away from the subject. He did not have an inferiority complex, damn it! He certainly didn't feel threatened by anyone, but especially not that stupid, fat-butted Hero woman!

The boy did make some viable points, however. Stan was all talk, even he had to admit that. Not counting the fight with Rosalyn that had leveled the bottom level of Madril, he couldn't remember the last time he had actually destroyed something. And now that his attention had been brought to this fact, he had to wonder what had happened to him.

Three hundred years ago, he had been well on his way to being as famous as his predecessor Evil King Gohma. It had actually come down to a fight between him and his older brother. Everyone knew beyond any shadow of doubt who the Evil King was going to be.

Stan stopped. He thought for a moment. He creased his eyes in concentration.

_I don't even remember his name…_ he thought. _My own brother, and I don't remember his name. I remember I hated him…did it start with a "J"…? Or was it a "K"…? Or am I even on the right side of the alphabet?_

Stan was disturbed by this, but he pushed it out of mind.

He had been sitting on top of a silver bookshelf, sulking. Out of some strange twist of fate, he was the Shadow King despite not being the eldest, yet his brother was going to get to be the Great Evil King and go out to try his luck at ruling the mortal realms. That's what the Master had decreed, despite the fact that Stan had been in the mortal realms learning about them for the past twelve years. He knew all about humans, he was the strongest of the Shadow Demons, and he would have just been a better choice all around.

_Jack! That was it!_ Stan grinned triumphantly.

Anders had brought an old man to meet him. The man wasn't as old as Anders, but he was still pretty old. He gave no name, but simply launched into his spiel.

* * *

"I don't know you," he said. "And you don't know me. Let's keep it that way. I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening," Stan responded suspiciously. He thought the old man seemed like he was up to evil deeds, after all.

"You know your brother was chosen by the Master. What if I were to tell you that it doesn't matter?" The old man stopped as though waiting for a response; when Stan only narrowed his eyes, the man shrugged and continued. "I represent a small group of select people, humans and demons both, who stand in opposition to the Master. Gohma was part of our group…"

Suddenly, the old man had Stan's full attention. He jumped down from the shelf to glare arrogantly. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes. And I come to you now because I believe you are his reincarnation."

Stan smiled very slowly. "I think I like you, old man. What do I have to do?"

"Defeat your brother in battle, then destroy the gate to the Diablerie." The first part was no problem. As he considered whether or not to object to second part, the old man added, "Otherwise, the Master will simply choose someone else to come here, and you'll have to fight them off, too."

Stan glared at the old man a moment longer, then nodded. "Done!"

* * *

And done. Killing Jack had been no problem whatsoever. It was something Stan had been planning to do for some, but had been far too busy. Jack had been the eldest, after all; it was just the way they did things. Breaking the Stone Circle and ensuring that no one else could challenge him had been quite satisfying. The trouble had started after all of that.

The old man, whom he had since surmised must have been Pollack, had failed to mention that the Hero he would be fighting would be Hopkins. Stan had assumed that the human King would find a new Hero, someone young whom the Princess could marry. The old man had failed to tell him that there was no Princess, although Stan probably would have known if he had paid more attention to current events instead of history. Close to thirty years had passed since Gohma had kidnapped her, and she had never been found. Instead, the King himself was to pray at the Aquatic Ruins. Well, no matter. Royalty was royalty, after all, and one human looked pretty much like another to Stan.

The old man had failed to mention that Hopkins would be waiting. It hadn't gone well, and Stan had quite forcibly learned lesson number one: Never let your guard down around an old person. He had spent three hundred years alone in a bottle because of that mistake.

_That's the problem,_ he thought angrily. _I sat around doing nothing for so long that_ _I've become soft. It's all his fault._

He glared at Ari and thought about waking him up to chew him out for it, but discarded that notion. If it hadn't been for Ari, he'd still be stuck in that bottle, after all. But being around Ari so much had skewed his perspective slightly. The boy's lack of a Classification had affected the people he'd been around, and Stan most of all, being the closest to him. Oh, he was still evil, of that there was no doubt. He was an Evil King, and he would always be one. It wasn't his thought process or personality that changed, or his conviction. He had simply started to wonder…why?

He had never thought about why before. It was simply what it was. However, "because" had ceased to satisfy as an answer to life, the universe, and everything. He wanted to know why he was what he was, and why it had always felt vaguely like he wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing. Not that the answer would really have mattered; he was Evil King Stan. He did whatever he wanted no matter what anyone had to say on the subject. He just wanted to know.

He still didn't have an answer, but at least the feeling that he was doing something wrong had vanished with Classification.

He glanced irritably at the clock and willed it to move faster. Perversely, it seemed to slow instead. He thought about rousing his slave and leaving, then changed his mind. He still needed Star to get them into the Diablerie.

A sharp squeal from down the other side of the hall nearly sent him investigating, then he decided he just didn't care what anyone else was doing right now and went back to glaring at Ari. After a while, he threw himself against the back of the chair and tried to sleep simply to pass the time. It didn't work out. Eventually, however, time did pass, as it often does.

He stood up and brushed his clothes out, checked the clock, and decided that Ari had slept plenty long enough. He smacked the boy lightly on the shoulder.

"Kid," he said. "Boy! Ari! Get up!"

Ari mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over.

"Damn it, slave! Obey your master!"

Ari mumbled something probably not very nice and rolled back over to glare at Stan, who was looking very triumphant indeed. "See? I have to call you slave. It's the only time you answer me."

Ari blinked in confusion, then the events of the day before crept out into the sunlight of his conscious mind. "Stan!" he exclaimed happily. "You're talking to me again!"

Stan scoffed. "Of course, I'm talking to you. How do you expect me to command you if I'm not talking to you? Now, get up. We have traitors to subjugate."

"…Stan, it's five A.M."

"_Master_ Stan, Ari. If I'm going to call you by your name, you are damn well going to call me 'master'."

"Yes, Master Stan," Ari acknowledged in amused resignation. They'd been through this before; it never lasted long.

Stan folded his arms and faced the other direction while Ari tumbled out of bed and attempted to locate his shirt and vest. He looked at the ground; there was one other thing…

"Not that I would ever give you a choice in the matter," Stan began. "But, hypothetically, assuming you did have a choice whether or not to be my slave, what would you do?"

Ari thought about that while he buckled on his sword. It was something he'd thought about before, but never in a way that he would say aloud to Stan. He had never expected the question to even come up. Finally, he answered. "I said I'd be your slave for life. I don't go back on my word."

"Good! Because if you wanted to leave, you'd have a problem, wouldn't you?"

Stan was definitely feeling better. It had been a strange past several days, but hopefully, everything was completely and undeniably back to normal, this time.

* * *

A loud banging on the door sent Rosalyn stumbling out of bed. She grabbed her rapier to brandish as she answered the door. "Ari? It is five o'clock in the morning."

"This was not my fault," Ari objected, backing quickly away from the crazy woman with the sword.

"Get up, woman!" Stan yelled, stepping in front of his slave. "We're burning daylight!"

"What daylight?" Rosalyn demanded. "There is no daylight to burn yet."

The sound of a bell chiming from the other end of the hall cut them off. As one, they turned to glare at Star, who hid behind the open door, still giggling.

Stan started to say something, but Rosalyn held up her hand. "No, shh! I don't want to hear it! I'm up; I'm up." She slammed the door, but he could still hear her muttering about not being able to go back to sleep now anyway.

Ari was leaning against the wall, already half asleep again. When Stan turned, he roused himself and rubbed his eyes. Down the hall, Illisaith, arms folded, strutted out of his room with Star hovering behind him. "You know, two more hours wouldn't have killed you," he said reproachfully.

"I was bored," Stan answered. "Not that I have to explain myself to a copy like you."

"Fine, yes, that's great, Stan," Rosalyn mumbled, exiting her own room. "I am so not in the mood for this right now. Can we just go? I cannot believe it is five fifteen in the morning. You had better be buying the coffee, you stupid fake evil being…"

Stan happily launched into a litany of Rosalyn's faults while she complained about him, the time, the sun, life in general… Ari grinned tiredly as he fell in behind his master. Illisaith exchanged an amused glance with Star as the two followed. "If this is normal for these two, I don't think we're going to survive."

"You get used to it," Ari informed him. "Trust me; it's when they're not arguing that you have to worry."

"It is not very pleasant…" Star observed in confusion. "Yet…they seem joyous."

Ari nodded. "Yeah, that's Ros and Stan for you."

"_Master_ Stan, slave," Stan corrected him before continuing with his argument.

"Sorry, Your Majesty."

This was going to be a good day. He could feel it.


	22. Ch22: Back on Track, At Last

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want to thank you all for your support. This is a really fun fic to write. I'm actually in the middle of rewriting chapters thirty through thirty-three, so don't worry about me giving it up any time in the near future. On a side note, Flashpichu? You said you wanted to review all my fics, but you missed one. '_whistles innocently_'

* * *

Deep in the heart of the Necropolis, there is a massive, stone crypt dedicated to the Evil Kings that fell in battle against Heroes. This is to say, all of them except for the last one. It was in this grand monument that a three hundred-year-old conspiracy was finally beginning to bear fruit. There was just one little problem.

Stan had gotten out of the Simulacrum. Just a little while longer and his mind would have been completely gone, perfect for Natasha's plans. Oh, she could still progress, of course. But his escape was going to make things much more difficult. He was going to be able to fight back.

The Hero was definitely going to be a problem as well. Fortunately, she knew exactly how to deal with them both. Her spies had told her all about how the two of them had behaved when the boy Ari had been close to death. Stan's response had surprised her the most, and she thought she knew exactly how to capitalize on it.

"Don't turn him," she said. "And don't kill him. Just leave him close enough to death that Nightmare can get in."

"As my Lady wishes," her listener replied, and bowed himself out.

* * *

Apparently, five in the morning was not the time of day to go shopping for mirrors. Stan, predictably enough, decided that they should simply take one from somewhere. Finally, just to keep the peace, Illisaith talked the Mirage hostess into giving them one. Ari, of course, was in charge of its safekeeping. After some trial and error, they rigged up a harness, and it was now strapped across his back. He would be useless should they be attacked by ghosts, but between Rosalyn, Stan, Illisaith, and Star, they should be able to handle anything. Except each other. 

"Well, I think we should all take a turn carrying it," Rosalyn said heatedly. "I mean, poor Ari shouldn't have to do it all by himself."

"You go right ahead," Stan informed her.

She looked at Illisaith for backup, but he held up his hands. "Don't look at me," he said gruffly. "Wrapped or not, I am not touching that thing. And don't look at Star, either."

"I would much like to help," Star protested.

"How?"

She flipped her paper-thin wings as though to speak then realized what he meant.

"It's okay, Ros," Ari said for the billionth time. "I really don't mind."

"But it's so heavy."

"Not really…" The mirror in question was a cheap, rectangular thing set into a plastic frame. It weighed a grand total of ten pounds maybe, but probably not even that much. Ari's only concern was breaking it. He shook his head. "Just watch out for that ghost."

Rosalyn turned her attention back to the road just in time to see said ghost explode into flames. "Alright! Which one of you did that?" Insolent laughter from both sides was her only reply.

"This is quite a fascinating and insightful trip," Star observed. "I have never traveled before. I find it most pleasant."

"I can't imagine why," Rosalyn grumbled. "Traveling with Stan is bad enough. Now, I have to deal with Illisaith, too. I don't know why I continue to put up with this."

"Because you love me," Illisaith quipped delightedly.

"Oh, you are even more of a child than he is!"

"Hey!" Stan exclaimed. "Who's the child here again? Could it possibly be the self-image obsessed pork woman?"

Rosalyn ground her teeth. "You will fix my shadow, Trinidad."

"Maybe," Stan replied.

"No, I mean it. You will."

"You know, he could just as easily," Stan pointed out.

Rosalyn stopped dead. Illisaith was suddenly her best friend. She grinned. "So…Illisaith…how's…you know, life and everything?"

"Couldn't be better," he answered happily. "No."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"First, I didn't do it. Second, I think it's hot."

Stan growled. "Moving right along…"

Rosalyn was suddenly reminded of Illisaith's comment from the night before and forcibly shoved the thought out of her head.

"I do not understand," Star chirped, the perfect distraction. "Shadows give off no heat…"

"It's slang," Ari told her. "It means cute or…beautiful…" He trailed off as the absurdity of that notion kicked in.

"And now we're going to change the subject," Stan decreed. "Sl-…Ari, think of a new subject."

"Uh…Oh, look a bird," he hazarded.

Stan muttered something about a roast, though whether he was talking about the bird or Ari remained to be seen. "Something…interesting…"

"I think Rosalyn's shadow is interesting," Illisaith announced.

Stan clenched his hands into fists. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

Illisaith grinned. "Maybe not. But what does that say about you?"

Stan opened his mouth and closed it again as quickly. The silence lasted for almost ten minutes.

"Knock it off," Stan said through gritted teeth.

Rosalyn huffed angrily. "Oh, now what?" she demanded.

"Him. That. Cut it out."

Illisaith growled. "What? What am I doing now?"

"You're mirroring me," Stan accused.

Illisaith looked between his own feet and Stan's. "Oh, no, it's horrible," he said completely deadpan. "We're walking in sync." He made a concentrated effort to stop before saying, "You know, that's not something I can really help with you right there."

"Well, do it anyway," Stan returned.

"Okay!" Rosalyn yelled. "Enough! Both of you! This is not the third grade."

"He started it," Illisaith whined.

Rosalyn rolled her eyes. "You are so immature…"

"They are a great deal alike at times," Star observed.

In perfect unison, Stan and Illisaith announced, "I am not like him!"

"I rest my case," Star finished happily to considerable mumbling and grumbling from the two Evil Kings.

This time, the silence lasted just long enough for Illisaith to remove his jacket and throw it over his shoulder.

"Are we there yet?" Illisaith whined in his best child impersonation.

"Does it look like we're there yet?" Rosalyn demanded.

"Young one, contrive to be pleasant, at least," Star said disapprovingly.

"But it's just so easy," Illisaith argued.

"That's it," Stan said loudly. "Ari, hold still." Once he had possessed the boy's shadow, he said without showing himself, "I'm sick of the lot of you."

"Well, we're sick of you, too," Rosalyn informed him. "So good riddance."

The rest of the trip passed in peace and quiet.

* * *

Repairs to the village of Tenel were going slowly. The town had been completely demolished by Illisaith, who was very proud of himself. Stan rose up to see the village; it was the first time he'd been back since this all began, and he, too, was impressed. 

"Nice…" he said.

Illisaith grinned. "Coming from you, that's the highest compliment.

"Don't get used to it, mirror mock-up."

Ari's family was still in Triste, so no work had been done on his house yet. The area was completely deserted, and probably for the best since the sight of Stan or Illisaith would have caused mass panic. Ari propped the mirror up against some rubble.

"If anyone feels that they can't live without me," Illisaith said with a pointedly impish glance at Rosalyn, "I'll be as far from that thing as I get." He went wandering back down the stone steps leading to the house.

"Good riddance," Stan muttered. "Now, is this thing going to make another one like him?"

"This will merely be a doorway," Star answered. "I will drive the Images away from it." She closed her eyes, spread her wings, and began to hum softly. Stan shuddered and took a few steps back; the sound called to something inside him, in his soul, and he didn't like it.

Rosalyn, naturally, thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard, and closed her eyes to listen. She could feel her Hero power stirring in response, trying to rejoin its source. Disturbing, however, was a tiny bit of coldness deep in her mind that recoiled from the sound.

Ari looked between his two comrades. He thought the music was beautiful, but he could not feel it like they did. Even so, he was sorry when it ended. Star chirruped sharply, and flicked her wings. The surface of the mirror was now a shimmering silver wall that reminded Ari of its counterpart in the Diablerie.

"Finally!" Stan exclaimed. "Alright, s- Ari! Let's go."

Ari hid a smile. Stan had actually remembered all day, and Ari was grateful for it. Not that he would actually have said that, unless he wanted a tongue-lashing. Instead, he showed his gratitude in a way Stan would understand and accept. "Right away, Your Majesty."

"Hold on!" Rosalyn said. "Stan, he's not going."

"He's my slave!" Stan yelled. "I say he's going!"

Rosalyn got as far as "He's not-" before she remembered they were not allowed to argue about that anymore. Stan grinned smugly and answered anyway. "Yes, he is."

"Whatever. He's not going without me, and since I can't go, he's not going."

Star glanced at Ari. They were doing it again, but she was not going to interfere this time. Ari sighed unhappily. He really hated trying to stop them; it seldom went well. "Hey, guys?" he said.

He expected them to ignore him; he had not spoken that loudly. It was extremely gratifying when Stan paid attention, even if it was just to yell, "I don't recall giving you permission to speak, _slave_!"

"We were doing it again, weren't we?" Rosalyn asked ruefully. "I'm sorry. What is it?"

"Just wanted to say that I'm going," Ari answered.

Stan laughed triumphantly. "See? The boy knows who his master is."

"Ari, it's dangerous," Rosalyn argued. "Last time you went in there, you almost died."

"Master Stan won't let me die," Ari said. "He'd have to train a new slave, then."

Stan crossed his arms and turned around, grumbling something about useless, impertinent slaves who don't know their place. Rosalyn made a disgusted noise but refrained from challenging him on the issue.

"I shall accompany, if I may," Star broke in suddenly.

"That is an even worse idea than bringing her," Stan scoffed. "You'd light up our location like a bonfire." Star merely looked at him, but her eyes were distinctly brazen. Her light dimmed until it practically went out. Stan glared back. "Fine, so you can hide your power. Big deal. You're still not coming."

"Actually," Ari said after a few moments consideration. "…Master Stan. She is pretty powerful. If she came along, she could protect me, and we could both stay out of your way."

Stan thought about this for a long time. He wasn't stupid; he knew Ari was trying to manipulate him, something he had become very good at over the year or more they had known each other. The boy had potential. He also had a valid point. Star was very powerful, although her will to actually do damage was lacking. But it was also the only thing likely to shut the Hero woman up. "Whatever," Stan grumbled. "Let's go!" He walked through the mirror without waiting for anymore of an argument.

"Thanks, Star," Rosalyn said, relieved both that Ari was not going to be alone, and that her awareness of Stan had finally ceased. "You two, be careful, now. I'm going to worry until you get back."

"We'll be fine," Ari promised. He followed Stan, leaving Star and Rosalyn alone.

"You will not harm the young one," Star commanded.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Star chimed. "Good. Be patient. He knows little better, but he tries." She floated through the door after her two comrades.

Rosalyn sighed. "Well, I might dream of it," she amended. Illisaith was arrogant and insufferable, the two qualities she hated most in Stan, next to the fact that he was evil. She truly did not know how to act around him. He could go from flattering and flirting to enraged in the space of a minute without missing a beat. She recalled something Stan had said about instability in Illisaith's creation, and wondered if that could account for it. At least, he wasn't like that all the time.

She walked to the top of the steps and looked down to where the object of her inner monologue was lounging back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. "They're gone, you know," she called. "You can come back up, now."

He twisted around to look at her. "Do you honestly think I was using that mirror as an excuse to get away from him?"

"Uh…not anymore…" At his behest, she walked halfway down the steps to join him next to the small gravesites.

"I get distinctly uncomfortable around reflective surfaces," Illisaith informed her as he went back to lounging. "Being an Image, I have no reflection. I don't even see the mirror; I see where I came from."

"What was it like there?" Rosalyn asked. She felt something like pity for the creature.

"I don't really remember. I wasn't alive; I didn't exist. It was dark, I remember that. Sometimes living things would get through, and I remember…or I think I remember that I envied them. Hated them, even."

"So you don't have any memory at all?"

"It's like dreaming, which is fun! Really fun! I like dreaming." He sighed contentedly, then went back to business. "But it's like that. You wake up, and you know you were dreaming, but you can only remember the things that really stood out."

His expression darkened, and he sat up. For a while, he stared at his hands as though he had never seen anything like them, then he shook his head. "I do have one vivid memory. We all remember that time. It nearly drove us all mad…

"There's…'windows' after a sort scattered throughout the world. They're the places where reality is at its most thin. Things seep through in those places: animals, emotions…I think all the lost socks in the world end up there…"

Rosalyn smacked him lightly, and he grinned for a moment before he sobered again. "Seriously, though. This world was in such a state of terror that it spilled over into the Simulacrum. We killed anything that made it through. No, killed isn't the right word. We…devoured them. I mean, that place…it's something we can't really help. That place just sucks the life out of you after a while. But during that time, we did it consciously and on purpose. We fought over the scraps…I'm never going back there. Never!" The last word was snarled angrily, and Rosalyn jumped slightly. She didn't think she had ever heard Stan sound that vicious.

"You won't have to," she placated. "I'll make sure of it."

"Can you…?" Illisaith asked quietly.

"Of course, I can," Rosalyn answered in mock arrogance. "I'm the Great Hero, after all."

After a few moments, Illisaith turned around and grinned. "And you accuse him of being egotistical."

"Only because he is," she answered loftily. "Hey, you said real things made it through, didn't you?"

"…what about it?"

"Just something Stan said…He implied that real things can't get there without a doorway like Star made."

Illisaith laughed darkly; it sounded very insincere. "Oh, no, it happens all the time. If you want the gate to be stable and be where you want it when you want it there, then you can make one of those. But little windows between the worlds open up all the time. Everything gets lost in those. I was joking about the socks, but it does happen. People, animals…once, a long time ago, I think I remember an entire country getting sucked in."

"Are you kidding?" Rosalyn asked. She desperately wanted to believe that he was, and had the sinking feeling that he wasn't.

"Well, I don't exactly remember what happened," he answered in all seriousness. "But there is a place there now that's solid and mostly real. We called it something…I can't remember what…something like…av-…ava…" He growled lightly. "I don't remember! It started with an 'a', though."

Rosalyn made an awed sound. She had never heard any stories of an entire country vanishing, but if it had happened in the outside world, she wouldn't have. She shook herself out of her reverie. "Oh, Star went with them."

"Yeah, I figured that." Illisaith looked pointedly at the ground and started doodling in the dirt. "So it's just you and me, now. All alone…together…"

"Knock it off," Rosalyn warned him as she realized he was drawing little hearts. His only response was to chuckle maliciously. "I mean it, Illisaith. There is nothing between us." Her hand strayed toward her rapier just in case, but he merely started to pout.

He leaned back to rest his head on her feet and look at her upside down. "Ah, but if only milady fair did understand the workings of this twisted, blackened heart."

"Poetry will get you nowhere," Rosalyn laughed.

"Are you sure?" Illisaith asked. "Because I can keep going."

"Where do you even get this stuff?"

He grinned. "I can only work with the materials I have available." He managed to sit up, turn around, and grab her hand all in one quick motion. Leaning close, he continued with his impromptu poem. "So dark, the inner sanctum of my mind seeks out the blessed purity of milady's bright soul."

Rosalyn giggled. Maybe Illisaith wasn't that bad, after all. "You are such a tease," she tried to protest.

"Ah, milady doth wound me," Illisaith cried out comically.

"You can stop any time now, you know."

"I know."

He didn't.

* * *

The trip through the Simulacrum was a singularly uneventful affair. Without Rosalyn around to taunt, Stan passed the journey in relative silence. He listened to Ari tell Star about the last time they were here and interjected with a comment every now and again. But for the most part, he was quiet. 

He didn't like it in the Mirror World. It reminded him of being there for so long with no one to talk to and nothing to do. He had raged for a while, then it started to seem pointless. He just walked around talking to himself after that, and he wasn't sure exactly when he stopped. He could feel himself fading in there, and it had bothered him significantly less than it should have. Even being stuck in a bottle for three hundred years had not affected him like that.

The denizens of the Mirror World fed off reality. They had stolen part of his life in there. It was an experience he was in no hurry to repeat. Not that he would ever have told anyone about it. It was bad enough that Ari had seen how far gone he was. If word ever got back to the Hero woman, he didn't think he would ever live it down. At least he could trust Ari not to taunt him about it…

"How much farther is it?" Stan demanded at the first break in conversation.

"Not far," Star assured him.

"Hey, S-ah, Master Stan," Ari caught himself. He liked not being called "slave"; he was not about to jeopardize that. "What do you see here?"

Stan shrugged. "I see your world."

"Strange, that," Star said quietly. "Demons are black; you should see the black realms."

"Why? I haven't been there in three hundred years." He nearly mentioned that he could barely remember what his world looked like, but caught himself. That was another of those things he would never confide in anyone.

After a second or two, Star started to giggle. Any and all attempts to ascertain why were expertly deflected. She was not about to tell Stan that she knew why he saw the light world and not the dark one. He didn't seem to like being called human.

* * *

There was an entire country once that vanished into the Mirror World. A creature had gone there to hide; a rather ingenious plan it thought, since no one had found it. It felt something faint and familiar, but that was nothing new. Echoes of the thing it had lost were all over. It had gone seeking them out, at first, and had found only pale imitations. This time, it merely closed ocean-blue eyes and wailed. 


	23. Ch23: Natasha's Pawn

The Shadow Lands were, if anything, even worse than they had been the first time Ari was here. He drew his sword as a few tiny demons revealed themselves, but Stan was completely unconcerned. He stared straight ahead as he walked, appearing to not even notice they were slowly gaining followers.

Star twittered. "And you claimed I would reveal our location," she teased.

"Shut up," Stan said through his teeth. He clearly noticed. After a few seconds, he went on. "I seem to have miscalculated exactly how much of a stir my return would cause."

"You think?" Ari muttered insolently. Stan didn't bother to glare; possibly he didn't even hear.

Suddenly, a high-pitched voice squealed, "Ari!" and the boy found himself nearly knocked to the ground by a familiar demoness in blonde pigtails.

"Uh…hi, Delilah," Ari greeted her uncertainly as he attempted to extricate himself from her grasp.

"Hey, you, girl!" Stan yelled. "Get off my slave!"

Delilah let go to glare disrespectfully up at Stan. "Huh uh, Shadow King," she contradicted him. "He's my slave, now. Aren't you, Ari?"

Ari shifted his weight uncomfortably and tried to restrain his laughter at the sight of Delilah, who came barely up to Stan's knees, challenging him over Ari's ownership. "What's this little brat talking about?" Stan asked suspiciously.

"This is Delilah," Ari explained. "She's the one who saved me from Legion the first time."

"Yup, that's me!" she announced, thrilled. "Delilah Trinidad!"

"You are the eldest?" Star asked when Stan seemed more inclined to simply glower menacingly. Ari glanced between the two and wondered what Star meant. He thought it was kind of strange that the name Trinidad would still be around after three hundred years.

The little girl nodded happily. "As of yesterday, as a matter of fact." She adopted an overly exaggerated frown. "My poor elder brother met a horrible, horrible accident involving his throat and a kitchen knife. But it was his own fault for letting his guard down."

Stan laughed at the look on Ari's face then turned back to his niece. "Do you have any younger siblings?"

"Just the twins."

"My advice to you is to kill them now before they become a threat."

Delilah grinned. "Oh, I fully intend to. But Mom says I have to let them live until they're at least ten years old, so they have a chance to fight back."

"Why?"

The girl shrugged.

"You kill off your family members?" Ari asked quietly.

Star put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It is their way. Let it not concern you."

"That's how the name gets passed down," Stan clarified. "The eldest inherits it. Any remaining siblings make something up or do without."

"Actually, it kind of sucks," Delilah said, wrinkling her nose. "There's only four Houses left now, so everyone got together and decided we should stop killing each other off for a while."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Again, Delilah shrugged. "But now you're back," she announced happily. "You can make them leave things the way they were."

Stan shook his head. "No, I'm not back. I'm just passing through. I still have the mortal realms to conquer as soon as I finish with certain traitors. You wouldn't know anything about a ghost butler and a mind flayer would you?"

Delilah thought for a minute. "No…I don't think so. But there's been a lot of activity over in the Necropolis for some reason. I snuck out to go see, and the ghosts were in an absolute uproar around the tombs."

Stan's eyes lit up. "Strange…" he muttered, though he sounded like he had expected it.

"Yeah. They said something about Evil King Mortimer's construct-"

"What about it?" Stan asked suddenly. Delilah jumped at the threatening tone.

"It had been destroyed or something," she finished.

Stan snarled viciously. "Damn it! I wanted to kill him. Oh, well. Let's go, slave!"

Ari sighed regretfully as he waved to Delilah and followed Stan. It had been great while it lasted.

Star flicked her wings and made a short, soothing noise. "Do not let their incomprehensible ways concern you, young one," she said, misinterpreting his expression.

Ari decided not to correct her. Instead, he smiled and replied, "I try not to. Uh, hey, Master Stan?"

Stan glanced over his shoulder, but said nothing. Ari took this as the signal to continue. "If the name gets past down to the oldest child, how can Delilah be a Trinidad if you are?"

The Shadow King pondered that for a second, then waved his hand dismissively. "Probably one of my sisters got it after I disappeared. Who cares?"

"You had sisters?"

"Three of them, as a matter of fact. Actually, four; one was older than me, and she got killed off by my brother before I was old enough to remember her."

Ari looked at the ground and decided he would rather not find out anything else about Stan's childhood.

Looking around at their entourage, Star shuddered slightly. "Why do they behave so? I am perhaps incorrect, but I do not believe this is normal."

Stan shrugged. "It's been three hundred years since I was last here, and there's been no one in my place. Not counting the last time, that is. They couldn't sense me because I was in Ari's shadow that time." He grinned. "Actually, it's kind of funny; I'm a probably a bedtime story come to terrifying life for most of these creatures."

Ari moved a little closer to Stan; the creatures' silent gaze was becoming unnerving. "So," he began. "Do you actually rule here?"

"Eh…not as such. No one _rules_ anything around here. But if I were so inclined, my word would be law by merit of the fact that no one else is strong enough to challenge me. But I'd rather just take over the mortal realms." He glanced sidelong at Ari and grinned. "Demons don't make good slaves."

Ari blinked. Had Stan just… "Was that a compliment?" he suddenly felt compelled to ask. Stan did not give compliments often and never out of the blue like that.

"Don't let it go to your head, Ari," Stan answered auspiciously. "You're still a worthless, insolent slave."

"Be pleasant, dark one," Star laughed.

"I don't have to," Stan informed her, the picture of pretension.

Despite the dark and dangerous circumstances, Ari practically skipped with joy. It almost felt like "old times", when he and the group had gone adventuring to subjugate fake Evil Kings. Although he didn't think he would ever miss those days when they started, by the time it was over, he was almost sorry. Even with his shadow possessed by an Evil King who ordered him around all the time, he had had fun. He missed adventuring.

Now, he was on an adventure again; Stan was actually being almost nice to him and calling him by his name for the first time; he had a two new friends; life was good. He was going to be sorry when this one was over, too. Maybe he'd convince Stan that they needed to take over the world. Actually, he would rather become a Hero like Rosalyn, but he doubted Stan would ever go for that. One thing was certain, though: he did not want to go back to being ordinary. It was too boring.

The sky grew darker, and their nightmarish retinue began to drop away. A strip of red appeared on the horizon, and the sky above it flashed with lighting. Ari wasn't paying much attention until Stan smacked him on the arm. "Look at that," he said, nodding toward the storm. He almost sounded awed.

"Yes…?" Ari said uncertainly.

"That's a once in a lifetime opportunity over there, Ari," Stan told him. "This is the first time I've ever seen it."

"…The rain?"

Stan smacked him again, slightly harder. "Not the rain!" he announced in exasperation. "I've seen plenty of rain! I'm talking about the fact that it's over the Necropolis. It never rains there. Literally. I think the last time it rained in the Necropolis was…about fifty years before I was born."

"Wow…" Ari replied quietly. Now, he understood Stan's reverence.

Star shuddered after a while. "I do not like this. It is dead here."

"It is not dead here," Stan argued. "It's just dark."

"And dead," Star continued.

Stan huffed. "Well, it's home, alright? You get used to it after a while." Although he tried to defend the place, he had gotten used to the mortal realms. The Shadow Lands, the place he had lived for eight years and continued to consider home for another three hundred or so, did feel dead to him, now. Being back here, he found he missed the green grass and sunlight. Especially, the sun. Shadows needed light to exist, after all; and while Shadow Demons did not as such, he felt more alive in the sun than he ever had anywhere else.

Not that he would ever say that aloud. Especially when there was a chance it might get back to the Hero woman. She taunted him enough about getting lonely so easily.

_I'd like to see her stay alone in a bottle for three hundred years and not come out of it craving some kind of companionship. Well, something to talk to besides myself, anyway…herself…_

"Then that is the River of Blood, yes?" Star sighed, gratuitously interrupting what was becoming a very uncomfortable train of thought.

"'River of Blood'?" Ari asked, torn between doubt and disgust.

"Yes," Stan confirmed. "It is exactly what you're thinking. The river is blood."

Ari stared at the red line, slowly approaching, though not slow enough. "And we have to cross it?"

Stan grinned that obnoxiously evil grin that meant he had just come up with an especially evil idea for what to do to his poor slave next. "Well, there is a bridge, but maybe I should make you swim it since you seem so eager."

"Dark one, you are bad," Star accused.

"No, I'm evil. There's a difference."

"You are not serious…?" she asked as though she dreaded hearing the answer.

"Oh, no," Ari said heavily. "He's very serious."

Star squealed and narrowed her eyes. "That is most unpleasant. I will not tolerate it."

Stan scoffed. "Oh, yeah? Try and stop me."

He stopped. Star looked at him; her expression was one of amusement. "Do you truly wish me to?" she asked slowly.

Stan glared. The memory of his ignoble defeat at her hands still burned, and he fully intended to make her pay for it later. For the moment, however, he simply snarled something most unpleasant and continued walking, or rather stalking, towards the Necropolis. Star squeezed her eyes closed in an imitation of the expression used by a very satisfied cat and made a short, soft, and high-pitched cymbal crash. Apparently, this was her version of a victorious whoop. Stan growled but did not try to continue the disagreement.

The river was still barely visible on the horizon when the three travelers saw someone or something walking towards them. Stan surreptitiously nudged Ari, who quickly understood that he needed to be ready to draw his sword. He noticed faint sparks play across Stan's fingers, and beyond him, Star's light increased slightly. The boy wanted to ask what it was, but he wasn't sure he should say anything. The person, or whatever it was, seemed far enough away that it shouldn't be able to hear them, yet Stan had chosen to remain inconspicuous. Clearly, he thought it would be able, and did not want it to.

Star and Stan both seemed to know what they were about to face, and Ari felt out of the loop, something he wasn't used to. He always knew what Stan had in mind because the Evil King liked to announce his grand plans to his slave, as he was the only one listening, more often than not. They were expecting a fight; that much was obvious. Ari decided that was all he needed to know for now. He would figure out what was going on soon enough.

As they drew closer together, the lone traveler waved cheerily enough. Rather than relaxing, which Ari wouldn't have expected anyway, Stan seemed to grow even more tense. The newcomer appeared to be a perfectly normal young man, slightly older than Ari. He had none of the features shared by Stan's kin, such as yellow eyes and pointed ears. He seemed perfectly human, if a bit too pale. On his shoulder sat a strange monkey-like creature. It chattered in a very simian manner.

"Who are you?" Stan demanded.

"I am Daylar," the man answered. "And this is my pet Simmurg, Chit."

Chit grinned and made a rude noise with its lips.

Stan narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked suspiciously.

Daylar opened his hands and held them out slightly, as though to show he had no weapons. He shook his head. "Nothing really. Only to ask you not to leave the Shadow Lands."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because our Lady doesn't want you to interfere."

"Natasha sent you!" Stan yelled.

"Of course," Daylar answered. He chuckled and grinned to reveal his fangs. "What else did you think a vampire would be doing on this side of the river?" He spoke some words that no one understood and pointed to ground. Chit jumped down from his shoulder and chattered. Its features blurred, and it grew until it was even taller than Stan. It had massive claws, now, and teeth the size and sharpness of daggers. It roared.

Ari didn't need Stan to yell for him to draw his sword. The only vampire he had ever fought before was the Vampire Evil King, and that fight had not actually progressed to the point of killing him. They circled each other warily for a time while the boy tried to come up with a plan. All the stories said that a vampire could only be killed with a wooden stake; Ari hoped a metal sword was close enough as jabbed in the general area of Daylar's heart. The vampire back-flipped away to land in a crouch, from which he lunged for the boy's throat. The entire maneuver took about two seconds, and Ari had not yet caught his balance. Daylar nearly grabbed him.

At the same time Ari was battling Daylar, Stan switched to his shadow form and slithered underneath Chit. He had never seen a Simmurg before, but he had read about them. He had even considered getting one, but the book said they were stupid creatures. As he watched Chit look around in confusion, he was grateful he had never gotten one.

Simmurgs were strong and vicious to anyone who wasn't the master. Although they only have magic insofar as it pertains to changing their size, they don't really need it. Physically, they are unrivaled by most other creatures, with the possible exception of a fully-grown and enraged bull elephant. They do have one weakness, but their eyes are so small that's it becomes very difficult to exploit.

They were magic resistant, which meant that spells would be no good. Unfortunately, that also meant that when Stan drew power to his hand and punched the creature, he did nothing save alert it to his location. Cursing his lack of an actual weapon, he sank to the ground and shot beneath it a second time, then resumed his true form. Before he could do anything else, however, Star unleashed her attack.

When the twin battles began, Star increased her light to about twice its normal wattage and began gathering all her power into a little ball as she had done to Stan once before. This power could be a very potent, very fatal attack if she wanted it to be. But Star was a creator; she did as little damage as possible, even to her enemies. As Daylar nearly caught Ari, and Chit rounded on Stan, Star unleashed all her pent up power. The two villains were thrown several dozen feet.

Stan narrowed his eyes and turned. "I could have handled that."

"I couldn't have," Ari offered.

Master and slave glanced at each other and came to a mutual decision. "Aim for its eyes," Stan said. "They're strong, but stupid. Just be quick, and don't waste any movements. If you get yourself killed, I'll resurrect your corpse and kill you again."

Ari gave a hastily worried smile as he traded places and opponents with Stan. As the second round began, he heard Stan yell something to Star about not interrupting him this time. Then he was too busy to think.

Ari didn't have much in the way of magic, but Stan had trained what he did have. He focused his fire magic on his sword and swung at the Simmurg. It did no damage.

"Don't use magic," Stan yelled from where he was grappling with Daylar.

"Gee, thanks," Ari yelled back. He jumped back as Chit swung at him, then stabbed for its eyes.

The other battle was suddenly and abruptly not in the vampire's favor. He was young for his species, barely two hundred years old. He had heard stories of how powerful the Shadow Kings were, how their power was passed down from one to another to become stronger with each generation. He had fought very powerful creatures before. He underestimated Stan.

Vampires are insanely fast and strong. As quickly as he could, he lunged for Stan's throat. He was a bit troubled when Stan did not attempt to dodge, but decided that he was simply moving so fast that his opponent appeared to be standing still. It was an incredibly dull-witted mistake. As he latched onto his target's neck, the Shadow Demon seemed to melt into an impenetrable darkness under his hands. He jumped backwards as a shadowy hand reached up from the ground to pull him down.

Suddenly, the entire world exploded into a sound that could best be described as a wire brush being scraped across a blackboard into a microphone with the speaker volume set on max. The feedback-style squealing would have made a deaf man cry for silence. All four combatants yelled in agony and the sound abruptly ceased. Star hadn't meant to hurt them so badly.

Stan crouched on the ground with his hands clasped against the sides of his head. His form shimmered and wavered as the pain in his head made him lose control of his power. Fortunately, Daylar was too busy tending to his own skull to notice or care.

"I'm deaf now," Ari muttered. His head felt like it was splitting open, and his ears rang painfully. He noticed that Chit had resumed its normal size and was cowering and whimpering. Although it felt a little wrong to hurt the poor terrified creature now, he lunged forward and stabbed it before it could become a threat again.

"NO!" Daylar wailed. "Chit! You'll pay for that, human!"

The grief-stricken vampire abandoned his fight with Stan and threw himself at Ari. He forgot everything; his orders, his vows…Chit had been more than a pet. It had been the vampire's familiar, and its death left a gaping hole in his mind, a hole that could only be filled by blood.

Ari tried to stab and dodge at the same time, but humans are prey for vampires, and easy prey at that. He had little hope while the vampire was still thinking; mindlessly enraged and heedless of the sword now sticking out of his stomach, the vampire bit.

Star squealed in alarm, but Daylar was unconcerned with the noise. She knew she could probably save Ari by simply raising the pitch, but she was afraid of hurting Stan anymore. He was just starting to get his form back under control. She couldn't knock the vampire away without causing him to rip Ari's throat out, and she couldn't kill it. She didn't know how to kill anything. Left with no other options, she threw herself at the vampire and tried to pull him away, but she might as well have been hauling against ten-ton weight. Magically, she was unrivaled except by Lightless Void; physically, a newborn infant could beat her up. She squealed again, and yelled for Stan.

Stan shook his head to clear it and stumbled to his feet. His body didn't want to cooperate, which was a terrifying new sensation for him. Still, he managed to throw himself on Daylar. Although his brain was still five minutes or so behind what was going on, some part of him was still enough in control to pull the vampire off of Ari and throw him to the ground. Star sang out discordantly in fear and concern for her young friend, but she was able to use her power now to hold Daylar down. He yelled and snapped and clawed at the air, but his efforts were in vain.

"Dark one!" Star called again. "Stanley! Check Ari!"

Stan shook his head again as his brain resumed normal functioning and the past five minutes caught up to him. His language as he dove for Ari would have made a sailor take off his hat in respect. "Star, kill him already and help me!" he yelled angrily. "Stupid slave boy, getting yourself attacked like that…" he muttered as he pulled out his handkerchief and held it to the side of Ari's neck.

"…s…sorry…" Ari gasped.

"Shut up," Stan commanded. "Star!"

"I…cannot…" she said miserably.

Stan cursed her, any ancestors she might have, and any descendants she might acquire to a fate worse than show tunes. Holding the makeshift bandage with one hand, he turned and used his magic to immolate the vampire, then turned back to Ari and said, "Why do I even bother with you?"

"…'cause…it's easier…" Ari said softly.

"I think I recall telling you to shut up," Stan reminded him. "Can you at least heal him?" he demanded, turning to an increasingly distressed Star.

"I can repair the damage," she said hopefully. "But I cannot restore what he has already lost."

"Close enough." Stan moved back to allow Star to take his place. She held her hand over the two holes in the boy's neck, then closed her eyes and began to hum softly. It was off-pitch at first, but she recovered quickly before Stan could snap again. After a few seconds, she moved back. All that remained of the wounds were two tiny pink scars.

"It is all I can do," she murmured apologetically.

"Whatever!" Stan growled menacingly. He tried to simultaneously throw Ari over his shoulder and gently pick him up. Fortunately, Ari had already lost consciousness and was not bothered in the slightest by the bumpy ride. Stan muttered something about this being familiar and he couldn't imagine why.

A low hissing noise began. Stan looked around angrily at the shadow creatures that had come to attack during the moment of weakness. "Can you keep them off of us?" he asked dryly. "Or would that be doing too much damage, do you think?" Without waiting for any kind of a reply, he started moving as quickly as he could back toward the Simulacrum.

Behind him, Star dimmed her light and shuddered. She had never felt so bad in her life. As she used her power to knock the demons back, she wished, for the first time, that she could be more like her brother. He had absolutely no problem doing any damage necessary.

* * *

Ari sat alone on the edge of a cliff, looking down. It was very dark and scary, here; no moon or stars lit the sky. He wondered idly how he'd gotten there. The last thing he remembered was Stan telling him to shut up. Part of him remembered that Stan just acted that way when he was worried, and he should be flattered. Most of him was simply miserable. He didn't remember the fight, or that Stan had saved his life again.

"Poor, lost, little boy…" said a whispered voice.

"Who's there?" Ari said, turning to see.

"I am the ruler of this place," the voice answered. Ari still couldn't find the source of the voice, but there was a strange mist creeping up on him. "You look like you need a friend. I, too, would like to find one. It is very lonely here."

Ari nodded; he was getting lonely, and he did want someone to talk to. The mist reached a tendril to brush his arm, as though to lead him somewhere, and he realized that it was the one speaking. "Why don't you come with me?" it asked. "Tell me your troubles."

He nodded and stood to follow it wherever it would lead.

* * *

Natasha sighed in aggravation as she looked down at what remained of her vampire pawn. "Did you at least do what I said first?" she asked. There was no answer, but the charred remains shivered slightly. She sighed. "Oh well. I suppose we'll find out soon enough. If you did, I might consider healing you." She gestured to a pair of ghosts to bring the body and teleported back to the Necropolis.

"Good help is so hard to find," she sighed melodramatically. She caressed the name plaque that belonged to her husband and murmured, "Isn't it, my love? But soon...soon we'll be reunited."


	24. Ch24: Battle's Aftermath

The stars had come up some hours earlier; Rosalyn had her head on Illisaith's shoulder to gaze at them. He thought she was finally warming up to him, and he was very proud of that. He thought he doing pretty well for someone who didn't actually know the difference between love and hate.

"You know," she said quietly. "I'm kind of surprised you haven't, like, changed your name or something."

"Why does that surprise you?" Illisaith asked curiously.

"Because Stan gave it to you, and I think you hate him more than I do."

He laughed quietly and looked her as she raised her head again. "Yeah, but I kind of like it. It's ironic."

Rosalyn adopted an expression of amused confusion. "It's ironic? What does it mean?"

Illisaith lifted an eyebrow, but she seemed perfectly sincere. "You really don't know? Eh…I guess it is kind of an old word. It means something like, 'one of a kind'."

Rosalyn stared at him, trying to figure out whether or not he was joking. "Are you kidding?" she asked slowly. "He named you…" she broke off and started laughing.

"One of a kind," Illisaith confirmed with a nod.

"That's pathetic. I mean, of him. Oh, man…" She trailed off again in favor of quiet snickering.

"Hey, I like my name," Illisaith objected. He was sulking in that teasing way he had, but there was a dangerous glint in his eye.

Rosalyn forced herself to stop laughing before he could decide to become violent, and shook her head. "No, it's a great name," she soothed. "I really, really like your name. I'm just laughing at Stan."

Illisaith sulked for a moment longer, then grinned. "Oh, well, I'm all for that," he announced happily. The glint was gone, but he still sobered far too quickly. "Tell me about him…"

"Stan?" Rosalyn asked. "I thought you knew all about him."

Stan's reflection shrugged. "I know how he thinks and feels. I can tell you anything you want about his personality and mental state. But I don't know…what he is, I guess. I know who he is, but not what. What's he done? Why is he the way he is?"

It was Rosalyn's turn to shrug. "Well, I can't tell you why, but I can tell you what he's done."

She began her narrative with her first meeting with Great Evil King Stan. She told Illisaith all about how he had first possessed her shadow, and how insulting he had been about it. She told him how she had left that encounter with a pink shadow and been practically ostracized for it. As she spoke, those old feelings of anger sparked again, every bit as potent as they had been when she first felt them.

Illisaith did not move or react in slightest as Rosalyn recited the story of how Ari had met Stan as it was told to her. He remained still and quiet as she told him about the adventure they had started, the friends they had acquired, the things they had learned, and finally, the battle they had won.

He was silent for a long time afterward. His face was unreadable, and Rosalyn let her hand stray toward her rapier. He didn't seem to notice, but he never seemed to. At last, he roused himself slightly and said quietly, "Why?"

"Huh?" Rosalyn asked as he turned to face her. "Why what?"

He seemed to be searching for something, but Rosalyn had the feeling that it was the sort of thing he wouldn't find outside his own mind. He shook his head; he was honestly bewildered. "Why…all of that?" he clarified. "He's evil; why would he do something good?"

"You know, I've been asking myself that question for a full year. What would you have done?"

Illisaith shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I can't tell anymore. I think I would have helped, but then, I started to enjoy helping in Rashelo. I don't think he-"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of thousands of tiny bells ringing in chaotic and disharmonic unison. A small sun threw itself at Illisaith, nearly knocking him over, and flitted around frantically, ringing and squealing.

"What?" he asked. "Star, that's too…would you calm down? That's too bright. Good! Now, slow down. What about Ari?"

"Stupid kid got himself bit by a vampire," Stan yelled, coming down the steps. Rosalyn was there even before he finished speaking.

"He's not going to become one now, is he?" she asked worriedly as she checked what was left of the bites.

"Do you think he'd still be alive if he'd turned on me?" Stan pointed out in his most condescending tone. "Can't you shut up her up?" he demanded of Illisaith.

"I am trying," the Image yelled back. "Do you mind?" Star continued to chatter at a speed that would have made squirrel envious as she flitted back and forth between Illisaith and Ari. "She seems to think this is all her fault. Mind explaining that?"

"She could have stopped the attack," Stan obliged. "She could have saved him. She was too busy worrying about not hurting the vampire."

Her chiming changed to a harsher tone and her eyes became angry.

"She says if you hadn't been so busy drawing out the fight, it wouldn't have happened in the first place," Illisaith translated.

"It doesn't matter who's fault this is," Rosalyn exclaimed. "Let's just get him to the hospital in Madril. He's not going to…die before we get there, is he?"

Stan didn't answer; he just started walking again. Behind him, Star put her light out and sank to the ground. "It wasn't your fault," Rosalyn whispered as she hastened after Stan.

Star chirped something very quietly. Illisaith took her by the arm and pulled her up. "No, it wasn't. Even you can't see the future."

Star had no answer for that.

* * *

Star and Illisaith went back to the Mirage while Stan and Rosalyn took Ari to the hospital on the second level. It was only a few hours between Tenel and Madril, fortunately, but Stan was growing increasingly concerned. He didn't think Ari was going to turn, but he should have been starting to recover by now. He shared this with Rosalyn, who, predictably, started to come up with all the logical reasons why Ari was still fine, really he was. Normally, Stan didn't like listening to her babble; today, it almost made him feel a little better.

The two of them stood in the hall outside Ari's room and spoke with the doctor. "So, you were in…"

"The Diablerie," Stan finished from between gritted teeth.

The doctor nodded condescendingly. "And you say he was…?"

"Bitten by a vampire."

The doctor clearly had no idea of the danger he was currently facing should he continue to patronize the angry Shadow Demon. "And he has no wounds because…"

"Star healed him," Rosalyn answered this time. Stan had started grinding his teeth.

The doctor nodded again and sighed. "Yes, and that's your little friend made of light…."

"How many times do we have to go through this?" Stan yelled. Rosalyn hissed at him to shut up or at least keep it down. He ignored her. "Do you really need to know all this to go find out what's wrong with him?"

"Oh, we know that, already," the doctor assured him. "He has lost a great deal of blood. What we need to know is how?"

"He got bit by a vampire!"

"Stan, keep it down!"

The doctor "ahem"ed slightly and nodded. "Yes, well, I hope you'll forgive me if I don't believe in vampires and demons and such."

Rosalyn cringed, but Stan actually stopped and looked at the doctor as though he had gone insane. There was the tiniest of moments during which Rosalyn allowed herself to hope that the demon would be too stunned by the man's stupidity to become enraged. The he shouted, "What do you mean you don't believe in demons? You're looking at one, you simpleton! I should-"

"Stanley, shut up!" Rosalyn yelled at last. In a much quieter voice, she said, "We are in a hospital. Keep you voice down." Stan went quiet, but it more likely that he was just too angry to speak than that he agreed. As the doctor opened his mouth to say something that would probably get him incinerated, Rosalyn quickly asked, "Can we at least go see him?"

The doctor closed his mouth, gave Stan a last dubious look, then nodded tersely and motioned them inside. He clearly wasn't happy about this, but he couldn't keep them out without a better reason than he had.

Ari's room was white and smelled of disinfectant. Stan gave an exaggerated shudder. "This place is worse than that damned bottle," he said, closing the door.

Rosalyn walked over to the unconscious boy and took his hand; it was ice cold. "He's not going to die, is he?"

"Of course not," Stan answered. The hostility in his voice made Rosalyn jump slightly.

"No, right," she stammered. "You're right. He'll be fine, and he'll be wondering why we were all so worried."

"Exactly." He glanced around. "This place is so…clinical…"

Rosalyn chuckled slightly. "That's kind of the idea, Stan."

"Well, it's a stupid one." He paced around and finally came to a stop by the window. It had a very lovely view of a brick wall. Stan scoffed. "What's the point?"

"Well, the other building may not have been there when this one was built. Do you always have to be belligerent?"

Stan nodded. "Of course."

Rosalyn decided that this conversation had gone plenty far enough. She wasn't in the mood to argue right now, and she could tell that Stan wasn't either. He seemed to be trying to pick a fight with her purely out of habit. Or maybe, it was just his way of trying to make things seem normal.

But that couldn't be. Trying to make things seem normal was a very human way of coping, and Stan wasn't human. He could sort of pass for one if a person didn't look too closely, but he wasn't. Humans didn't have yellow eyes or pointed ears. They didn't give off an aura of cold darkness. Stan didn't care; he was only concerned that he might have to find a new slave. Wasn't he?

Stan drummed his fingers on the wall and stared out the window. It was a very human gesture. He sighed and started pacing again. That, too, was very human. Extremely human. Disturbingly human.

"Stan, you're human," Rosalyn blurted out.

Stan froze and looked at her blankly. "What?"

She held her hand over her mouth and started laughing. "You're human!" she repeated.

Stan drew himself up and glared at her. "I am not!"

"Yes, you are! You've been here so long, you're human!"

"I am not human, you brainless cow! Do I look human to you?"

"You mean aside from the eyes and ears?"

"I am _not_ human!"

"You are, too! You've been in the human world for three hundred years, and now you're becoming human!" She shook her head, amazed that she hadn't noticed sooner. "And not only are you human, you care about someone besides yourself." She gestured triumphantly towards Ari.

"Don't insult me, or I'll make you regret it, woman," he responded scathingly. He wanted to laugh at her, but he was too angry. He knew she was right. He had been in the human world for so long that he'd picked up a far too many of their habits.

He crossed his arms and turned away to stare at the door; he could still hear her laughing, but at least he didn't have to look at her anymore. He grinned suddenly and, without turning, said, "Some Hero you are. Here's this poor boy suffering, and you're sitting there laughing at me."

It got the desired effect. Rosalyn stopped laughing. Stan turned to find her holding Ari's hand, again, and talking softly to him. He couldn't hear what she was saying, and he didn't really want to. He left the two of them alone.

Rosalyn took note of Stan's leave, and didn't try to go after him. She wasn't in the mood to care, and she knew exactly where he was, anyway. She continued to talk at Ari, not really paying much attention to what she was saying. Her mind was on what Stan had said.

She knew he'd only been trying to get her to shut up, but that remark had hit home. She had let Ari go into danger with a known Evil King for a companion. Granted, Star had been there, but that was no excuse. As far as Rosalyn was concerned, this was all her fault. She let her commentary drop and closed her eyes as a tear threatened to fall.

The door creaked open and a nurse poked her head in to check on Ari. She smiled slightly when she saw that Rosalyn had fallen asleep in her chair, and quietly pulled the door closed again.


	25. Ch25: The Nightmare King

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Flash, you're just too cute. Okay, I rewrote this one about three times. Now, I've read over it a dozen since then to make sure that I got it all right, but if you see anything that looks disconnected, random, or just generally out of place, please let me know.

* * *

Ari stood in the center of a slowly swirling mist and looked around. The mist liked him; the mist was his friend. It would not yell. It would not command him. It would not ignore him. He realized that it was whispering the very things he was thinking, and some part of his mind rose up in alarm. It frantically tried to shake him out of this hypnotic state, but it was overpowered.

_I am your friend_, the mist whispered soothingly. A tendril of it reached out to brush his face. _I am your only friend._

"My only friend…?" Ari whispered.

_I will give you whatever you want._

"…whatever I want…"

_Those others…they hate you. They ignore you. We can make them pay._

The part of Ari's mind that knew what was going on made a last ditch effort to wake him up. They were his friends! Sure, Stan was loud and bossy, but he did care. Rosalyn always stood up for him, even if she was a little overzealous about it. Illisaith was strange, but he meant well. And Star-

_Even now, they control you_, the mist interrupted his train of thought. It knew he was trying to resist; it also knew just what to say. It knew everything about Ari: his fears, his hopes, his dreams, his nightmares…

It knew what he was thinking.

_Even now, here, in my place, they reach out to control you, _it whispered. _You must not let them. They only want to use you. They don't care for you. They don't even pay attention except when they want something._

But Star had forced them to pay attention. Star was his friend…

_An ancient demigod would deign to be friends with a human?_ the mist responded scathingly. _It is like all others of its kind. It seeks to use you for its own benefit, just like all the others_.

…but she paid attention…

_Of course, it did, child. It wants you for its follower. And when it has finished with you, it will toss you aside. But I will never use you. I will never leave you. You will always be part of me. Only let me in, and we can make them bleed._

Ari was no longer paying attention to his better judgement. He couldn't. The whispering filled his mind until he couldn't even hear his own thoughts. The mist was his friend. The mist loved him. He smiled. "Make them bleed…"

* * *

The creature known as the Incubus opened green eyes onto reality for the first time. He found himself in a white room that he did not like very much. Perhaps he had been wrong to yearn so for something real if this is what it was like. Then he realized he could move, a process both laborious and joyful. This was not the entirety of the world, merely a very boring part of it, and he could move to go see the rest. 

He reveled in sensation and movement. In his true form, he could move, but it wasn't the same. This was fun. It took a great deal of concentration at first, but if he could convince billions and billions of completely separate entities to move in the same direction at once, he could certainly convince a single entity to do the same. After a few false starts, he finally figured out how to get all his limbs going in the same direction, only to realize that humans don't move like that. Obviously, he was going to need some help. Fortunately, he had exactly what needed right at hand.

It did not take much to convince Ari to help him. They were friends, after all. Incubus turned his head to the right to see Rosalyn. Ari had fond memories of the female human, so Incubus would not kill her yet. He turned his head to the left to see the window and the wall beyond it. Ari informed him that this was strange and rather pointless. He wouldn't know himself. All human mannerisms seemed strange and pointless.

The doctors had connected Ari to a network of tubes to aid in the healing process; Incubus simply removed these. He was perfectly capable of simulating whatever energy the boy might require until his body finished healing. For now, he needed to leave. He conferred with Ari for a few moments to figure out how to accomplish "moving quietly," then quietly moved past Rosalyn and out the door. There was no one about; Ari informed him that this was strange as well, and that it must be late. After a few seconds spent going through Ari's memories, Incubus concluded that "late" was a time designation representing the darkest hours of the day when humans slept. Further inquiries revealed that not all humans slept during "late," and that there would be some still awake in the building. Incubus did not wish to meet them.

Natasha had told Incubus that Ari had power. He had been one of the Ignored, once, and, due to the strangeness of circumstances, had come out of that ordeal with the faint ability to convince people to forget about him. Sifting through the boy's memories again, Incubus learned that he considered this ability a burden. It was not something he wanted or had any control over, or even realized he had as such. Still, if there was one thing Incubus did well, it was that he could convince anything to do whatever he wanted. His patience was limitless.

After almost thirty minutes, a nurse walked by and completely ignored him. Deep inside his mind, he felt Ari begin to panic and spent a few moments to convince him that everything was under control. He contrived to make the human expression called "smile." Although he was uncertain how well he managed, Ari said that it felt more or less correct. Then, they were off.

* * *

Stan paced around like a caged wolf in the mercifully quiet hospital lobby. Something felt wrong, somehow. He wasn't sure what it was, or even if it was real. It could have been nerves, after all. He was not in a good mood. He had been attacked, his slave had nearly been killed again, the Hero woman had accused him of being human, and nine people had been staring at him for the last two hours. 

At first, there had been more, all talking and chatting. It had gotten on his nerves very quickly, but he had been too depressed to do anything about it. He felt somehow responsible for Ari's state. In fact, he couldn't be sure, but he might even have been feeling guilty, which was ridiculous. He was Evil King Stan; what did he care if some useless human whelp got himself killed?

It was at that point that Stan decided he had heard enough. The luckless people stuck in the lobby with him had been cowering in terror ever since. It made him feel better. He had lost track of the number of times he had roamed past the reception desk, but the girl behind it was beginning to relax. He'd have to-

He stopped and looked around. Something was nagging at him, something he had seen that didn't register. He replayed the last few minutes again in his head and realized that he had unconsciously stepped around…what? It was a familiar feeling; he had occasionally done that when Ari was…

He cursed colorfully and sprinted in the direction of Ari's room only to crash headlong into Rosalyn, who was coming back from there. They both went down, but Stan recovered first. He hauled Rosalyn to her feet and shoved her against the wall. "Where is he, woman?" he growled.

Rosalyn stamped down hard, forcing Stan to let go and tend to his now injured foot. "I don't know!" she shot back. "I fell asleep, then something woke me up and he was gone. How do you know, anyway?"

Stan choked back the desire to cremate the Hero alive. "I think I saw him," he replied as he rushed towards the exit with Rosalyn in tow.

"You _think _you saw him?" she repeated. "How do you _think_ you saw him?"

"Because he didn't me want me to," Stan explained heatedly. "Haven't you noticed that sometimes your eyes just slide right over him when he wants you to forget about him for whatever reason? He does that to me quite frequently; that's probably the only reason I noticed at all. Now…" They carefully scanned the deserted streets of Madril's upper level.

"Do you see him?" Rosalyn asked in a hushed voice.

Stan shook his head. "He didn't take the elevator, or we'd hear it," he muttered. "So he must have gone the other way."

"Maybe if we hurry, we can catch up to him," Rosalyn said optimistically. All disputes momentarily put on hold in favor of the common goal, she and Stan rushed for Madril's upper level exit. Behind them, the subject of their temporary truce stepped out from around the corner of the building and blinked once, slowly. He had expected them to come running as soon as they noticed his absence, but he had not expected to be perceived. Still, this miscalculation could yet be fortuitous, he decided. He smiled, an expression that would have better suited a hungry crocodile, and followed.

* * *

"Maybe we should have gone and got Star and Illisaith," Rosalyn muttered, distracted by something. She looked back as though searching for something, then shook her head as she looked forward again. 

Stan scoffed. "Why? So I can watch you and that wannabe-me make puppy dog eyes at each other again? I think not."

"Okay," Rosalyn tried to laugh derisively. "First of all, there is nothing between us." Stan muttered something that sounded like "whatever," but Rosalyn continued as though she hadn't heard. "And second, he does not want to be you."

This was something Stan had noticed, although he was still uncertain whether to be pleased or insulted; but having the Hero woman point it out to him grated on his already strained nerves. "What's wrong with me?" he demanded. He regretted it almost immediately.

"What's wrong with you?" Rosalyn started to laugh as she ticked items off on her fingers. "Well, let's see. You're egotistical, insufferable, arrogant, stupid…"

"Annoying, loud, rude…"

Rosalyn started to agree, then remembered who she was talking to and gave Stan a suspicious glare. He grinned. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, not sorry in the slightest. "We were talking about you, weren't we?"

"…Remind me why I haven't vanquished you yet?"

Stan gave a low, dark laugh and said nothing. In truth, he was rather too distracted to continue the squabble. He could not seem to shake the feeling that they were going the wrong way. Judging by the way Rosalyn kept searching around for something behind them, she must have agreed.

"All right, Pink," Stan sneered. He had had enough. "What do you know?" he demanded.

Rosalyn stopped and sighed heavily. Only a small part of her reaction was due to Stan. "I don't…it just…it just feels like we're going the wrong way." She was hesitant to go on, but he just looked at her expectantly. "Oh, I don't know…I've just had this feeling where evil is since I became the Great Hero. And right now, not counting you, it feels like it's behind us. But that doesn't make much sense. Does it? I mean…we're looking for Ari…not…"

She trailed off as she realized what Stan was thinking. "You said he didn't turn," she reminded him.

"He didn't," Stan returned angrily. "…At the time."

"At the time?" Rosalyn yelled. "What do you mean at the time?"

"If someone's going to turn into a vampire, it's almost immediate," he explained. He was shouting himself, now. "There's something we're missing. He's not a vampire! He can't be!"

Rosalyn took a breath and forced herself to calm down. Letting this turn into an argument was not going to get them anywhere, and Stan was only going to calm down if she did first. When she finally trusted herself to speak rationally again, she said, "So what are we missing, then?"

Stan glared for a moment more. His voice, when he replied, was clipped but reasonable enough. "If I knew, I would say something. I don't." He glanced around as though an answer might leap out of hiding, then sighed. "Fine. We can either keep going and hope we find the slave, or we can go back and hope we don't."

Rosalyn decided not to dispute Stan's terminology in the interests of keeping the tenuous peace. She shook her head. "Maybe he's not the source of the evil," she said hopefully. "I think we should go back. He might have been kidnapped or something. I mean, you don't for certain you saw him, right?"

Stan ground his teeth at the implication that he did not know something, but also chose not to challenge her. As much as he hated Rosalyn, he wanted his slave back. And as much as he hated to admit it, that evil sensing ability of hers might come in handy. He gestured ironically for her to precede him.

* * *

Incubus saw the pair of adversaries long before they saw him. He hid again to consider. He was not ready to meet them, but as long as they continued to search for him, they were a threat. He searched inside himself for Ari, but the boy was little help. He was far too hypnotized to care what Incubus did now. It really was a shame, he thought. Ari had put up more of a fight than most and proven himself a worthy adversary. But everyone bowed to the whim of the Nightmare King in the end. 


	26. Ch26: A Change of Roles

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You didn't think Okage had depth? _'howls with laughter'_ You and me should talk. Drop me an email sometime. Hey, and to everyone who reads this story! I don't think this site will let me plug the forums here, but send me an email and I'll tell you where to find Fear Your Shadow. We only have 60 members. Please help us. You can find a slightly updated version of my story there, as well as all the theological discussions about the game you can take. And then some.

* * *

Star and Illisaith had sat in the Mirage bar for a while, fidgeting and talking. Eventually, they had gone to their room simply to avoid the stares Star kept getting. They had stayed there for a few hours, but Star was concerned about her friend. Despite Illisaith's repeated assurances that she was not to blame, she knew Ari had been hurt because she had been unwilling to attack the vampire, and she wanted to know that he was going to be okay. 

"Oh, yeah," Illisaith muttered, looking around at the people cowering away from him. "Stan's definitely been here." He laughed quietly as he leaned against the reception desk. Star chirped, and he sighed theatrically. "What? It's funny."

"You are bad, young one," Star said good-naturedly.

"No, I'm evil," Illisaith corrected her. "There's a difference."

Star looked at the ground and smiled in amusement. "This conversation seems oddly familiar, though I cannot for the life of me imagine why," she muttered.

"Why?" Illisaith demanded. Star shook her head and refused to answer.

"Uh…e…excuse me…?" the desk attendant broke in hesitantly.

"For what?" Star asked, perplexed.

"It's an expression," Illisaith informed her. "Did you find them yet?"

She smiled the smile of someone who fears for her life. Although they had both tried to assure her that Illisaith was not Stan, she was unsure she believed it. Still…"I'm afraid your friend Ari went missing."

Illisaith's eyes darkened. Star laid a restraining hand on his shoulder and chirped something. It did not calm him down, but it did remind him that she knew his weakness. "When?" Star asked. "Did our friends follow?"

"It was a few hours ago." The young attendant knew she was dead by the way Illisaith was grinding his teeth, but she plowed on anyway. "I think your friends went out the gate."

Illisaith was gone. The attendant blinked owlishly and breathed a sigh of relief as Star thanked her and flew after him.

* * *

Three hundred years ago, the town of Arlington was a small hamlet. It was amazing how three hundred years could make so little difference. The town had been rebuilt after Evil King Gohma had destroyed it, but it had never progressed. There were a few more people living there now, but there was no Hero's Club; the inn consisted of two rooms and a restaurant/bar. It was, quite literally, a one-horse town; although it did have two mules and a donkey, as well. 

They had come here following Rosalyn's Hero sense, as Stan had mockingly dubbed it. Neither of them had been here before; Rosalyn had never even realized it was here until Stan had told her the story of Hopkins and Gohma. She felt awed to be walking the same streets that Hero Hopkins had walked so many years before. Assuming Stan's story was accurate, and she had no reason to doubt him yet, this was where Hopkins had actually awakened as a Hero. She could almost hear him telling off that young upstart Maximus.

Stan repressed a laugh. Watching Rosalyn be awed was among the funniest things he'd ever seen. As far as he knew, his story was true, but that didn't make this any less hilarious. The woman acted as though she was walking on holy ground. She probably felt that she was desecrating it by allowing an Evil King to enter.

Although most of the townsfolk were far too busy to pay any attention to the passersby, three children followed them around to gawk at Stan, much to his annoyance. Finally, he turned around and snarled at them, causing them to squeal and run away. He smirked and was allowed to feel victorious for about thirty seconds until they returned with more in tow.

"They multiply like rabbits," he muttered, disgruntled.

Rosalyn laughed. "Well, you should have just ignored them. They'd have gotten bored eventually."

"Ignore them, she says," Stan said, rolling his eyes. "Easy for you to say; they're not staring at you."

Twelve sets of eyes were now fixed on Stan, waiting to see what the crazy, beast man would do next. Rosalyn chuckled as Stan growled low in the back of his throat. "You sound like dog," she quietly informed him.

"Shut up," he replied between clenched teeth.

Rosalyn sighed. She needed to find some way to distract Stan before he did something rash. Since it was practically noon, she said, "I think it's time for a lunch break; what do you say?" As he thought about that, she added quietly, "And by the time we come back out, the kids will have gotten bored and gone away."

"I think it's time for lunch," Stan agreed, faster than expected. Being stared at was bothering him more than Rosalyn realized. She was amazed he had not done something before now.

The interior of the inn was well lit and extremely clean. There was some smoke in the air, but not too much because the building was well ventilated. It was a lot better than either of them hoped to expect. The young waitress was very nice and tried not to stare at Stan, which annoyed him almost as much as actually being stared at because she was so obvious about it. Rosalyn apologized for his short temper and ill-mannered remarks by saying he was having a bad day.

The waitress nodded understandingly. "Yeah, we all gets 'em sometimes."

Stan muttered something not very nice; fortunately, the waitress didn't hear him. Unfortunately, Rosalyn did.

"Knock it off, Stan," she whispered. "You're going to get us kicked out of here."

"Oh, what a pity that would be," he replied blandly. "To not have people muttering about me being some kind of freak because they don't realize _I can hear every word they're saying!_" The last bit was said more loudly than necessary. All conversation stopped immediately. Stan nodded once. "That's better."

Rosalyn looked around at all the people who were quite obviously not watching Stan. In fact, they seemed to find the ceiling significantly more interesting. She shook her head. "Okay, I'll admit it. This was a bad idea."

"No, you had a bad idea?" Stan said mock incredulously. "Incredible. Never thought the day would come that you, of all people, would have a bad idea. Blows my mind."

"Oh, like you never had a bad idea," Rosalyn replied scathingly.

"Of course not," Stan said egotistically. "All my ideas are good ones; they just get ruined by stupid people like you."

Instead of replying, Rosalyn glared at him. She sighed and started drumming her fingers on the table. "How long does this take?" she muttered.

Stan stared at his knife and tried to think of all the different ways he could use it to silence the inn's patrons. They had started talking about him again, only louder. It wasn't that they were bad people; it was just that they had never seen anyone with pointed ears before, and they seemed to think that it was some kind of birth defect that had rendered him retarded. They had yet to notice his eyes, which was probably a good thing.

Rosalyn was using her spoon to push down the ice cubes in her glass of water when she stiffened. Something was very, very wrong.

"What is it?" Stan asked. As if on cue, a thundering crash rang across the village and someone screamed. Without thinking, Rosalyn jumped to her feet and ran out the door with Stan hot on her heels.

"So here you are," said a familiar voice. "I've been waiting."

The voice was coming from above. They turned to see Ari standing on the roof of the inn.

"Ari!" Rosalyn exclaimed. "What are you doing up there?"

"Careful, something's not right," Stan warned her.

Ari sneered. "You should listen to him, Hero woman."

"Ari, what's wrong with you?" Rosalyn asked, disturbed by his attitude. He was almost acting like Stan.

Ari laughed derisively. "Nothing's wrong. Ha, nothing at all. I just realized something; you really are stupid, aren't you?" He laughed, and there was no sanity in his voice.

"Slave, knock it off and get down here!" Stan yelled.

Ari snarled and vanished. Stan whirled around, but he was a split second too late. He went flying through the air and crashed into the side of the inn. Ari stood behind where he had been; his arm was outstretched and energy crackled around his fingers. He sneered. "I'm not your slave, freak. I'm Evil King Ari, now!"

Rosalyn gasped. She helped Stan to his feet; for once, he didn't throw her off. "You can't be an Evil King," he protested angrily; his voice shook for some reason.

"But I am," Ari said, smiling like a viper might. "I might let you live if you agree to serve me."

"Never!" Stan snarled. He pulled energy to his hands, intending to throw it and incinerate his former slave. However, Ari simply made a "come-hither" gesture with his hand. Stan screamed as darkness engulfed him and rushed toward Ari.

"Be a shadow, again," the new Evil King laughed. He raised his arms and sent energy shots at random targets.

Rosalyn grimaced and blinked back a tear. Ari was her dearest friend, but this wasn't Ari anymore. She unsheathed her rapier and faced him. "I won't let you do this, Evil King!" she announced, every inch the Hero.

For some reason, Ari found that hysterically funny. "And how do you propose to stop me?" he asked once he could speak again.

"Why are you doing this?" Rosalyn asked; she couldn't hold back the note of despair that crept into her voice.

He put his hands behind his back and leaned close. "Because," he said in a hushed voice, as though he were telling her some secret. "I'm tired of being pushed around."

Looking back, Rosalyn realized exactly how stupid she was at that moment, to not have anticipated the attack. Ari quickly brought his hands around and fired twin shots at Rosalyn at very close range. She was lucky to have survived; the rest of the town wasn't so lucky.

With the Hero out of the picture, Ari decimated Arlington. No one survived save for two people: a fallen Hero and a ruined King.

* * *

Rosalyn gasped; Ari's shots had hit her right over her heart, and now it hurt to breath. She carefully turned her head to look at the damage. "Are you okay, Stan?" she asked without turning. When he didn't reply, she called his name again. 

"…no…" he replied. His voice was faint, and he sounded like he was in agony. Or was it something else?

Rosalyn turned, then, and rushed to his side as quickly as her own pain would allow. He was curled in on himself and translucent as a ghost. "Stan, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice rising in panic.

He looked at her; his eyes were filled with terror, which only exacerbated Rosalyn's fear. She'd never seen anything but arrogance or anger in those eyes. "Sh-shadow…" he choked out. "Can't…fading…"

"Shadow…shadow…Stan!" Rosalyn screamed as he faded almost completely. "Shadow…OH!" Suddenly, it hit her what he was trying to say. "Stan! My shadow!"

He shook his head, but as he nearly faded from sight again, he whined slightly. He knew he wasn't going to win this fight; he shuddered as he drew the rest of what little power he had left to go into Rosalyn's shadow, returning it to its original color.

"Stan?" she asked a bit uncertainly.

"…ow…" his disembodied voice returned.

"Are you okay, now?" she asked with real concern.

"I'm stuck in your shadow," he muttered without bothering to show himself. "What do you think?"

Rosalyn huffed, then gasped as her lungs brushed against her bruised ribs. "Hey, you were dying, okay? And don't try to deny it. I could have just left you there, but I didn't. You could at least be a little grateful."

Stan said nothing, and Rosalyn decided not to pursue the issue. At least, he wasn't complaining about her figure this time. "Look at this place," she breathed. "I can't believe he did this…"

"I can't see it from here," Stan informed her; his voice carried none of his usual cocksure egotism.

Rosalyn rolled her eyes. "Then come out of there and look! Geeze…"

"…maybe later…"

She wasn't sure whether or not she actually wanted to pursue the matter, so she started to leave. She had twisted an ankle and bruised several ribs when Ari hit her; she had to limp to walk, but doing so meant she could hardly breathe. After a while, she took a break; she hadn't gone very far.

"Well, it's pretty bad," she told Stan. "There's no one left alive…" Her sentence ended with a sniffle. She was in pain, and she had failed all these people. "Some Hero I am…" she muttered, then started to cry.

"Aw…come on," Stan said helplessly. "Don't' cry, damn it! It's annoying!"

"But it's all my fault!" Rosalyn sobbed. "I'm a Hero! I'm supposed to save people! I shouldn't have hesitated…" She dropped her head in her hands and wept uncontrollably. Although this did nothing whatsoever to help her breathe, she couldn't stop.

Stan groaned. The last thing he wanted to have to deal with right now was a hysterical Hero woman; he had enough problems of his own. "Hey, look on the bright side," he said, uncertainly. "Uh…and as soon as I think of one, I'll tell you about it."

That statement was so ludicrous and so out of character for Stan that Rosalyn actually stopped crying. She sniffed then laughed a little. "You are such a moron," she informed him.

"No, you're the moron! Here you are, in pain, and you can use your Hero power to heal yourself."

Duh. Rosalyn had been so caught up in everything that she had completely forgotten about that. She had to laugh at herself. She closed her eyes and sent herself into a healing trance.

"Well, good for you," Stan said. If she heard him, she made no effort to respond. "Never mind poor me. I'll just stay here and talk to myself. No big deal. At least I still have the power to use my voice in this form. How did that little brat do this to me?"

He growled. "Natasha, of course. She must have kidnapped him and brainwashed him or something. I'll kill her when I find her. I'll rip her to shreds and feed the pieces to the sharks. Then I'll kill all the sharks that ate her and skin them and…"

He continued in that vein for a very long time; it made him feel better to rant as loudly as possible. He had gone through dogs and piranhas, and was getting ready to feed some cats to a polar bear when Rosalyn came out of her trance. She listened to his ranting long enough to know that he was running out of things to feed to other things, then she stopped him.

"Can I assume Natasha started that?" she asked.

Stan stopped. "Oh, you're back. Yeah, I tore her apart and fed her to some sharks."

Rosalyn nodded appreciatively. "Sounds good to me. Let's go." She had come to the much the same conclusion Stan had, and she, too, was now out for blood.


	27. Ch27: Beyond the Mountains

The sun going down in the Rumille Plain was a sight to see. The light, as it hit red stone of the cliffs, bathed the world in a rich orange. The stormy season was finally beginning to taper off, which meant that the sky was relatively clear, for once. The air was crisp with cold from the slowly approaching winter, but not so cold as to be unpleasant. It would have been beautiful if the situation were not so grim.

"Why would brother Ari flee?" Star asked miserably. This was not the first time she asked, and Illisaith still did not have an answer. "I am to blame for this…"

"No!" Illisaith said harshly. "You're not! Now, you're getting on my nerves with that crap!" Star flinched. Her friend was angry, obviously, but he had never spoken that forcefully to her. He stopped and sighed. Without looking at her, he said, "Sorry. I'm just not in a good mood, right now. The only person to blame for this is that stupid vampire, and I'm not going to let you let him off the hook for it. It was his fault, not yours."

He resumed walking toward Rashelo; Star followed behind him. "Perhaps that is so," she admitted. "But were I not so hesitant, Ari would be with us still."

"You can't change your nature, Star."

"You have."

Illisaith shook his head and laughed mirthlessly. "Oh….no, I haven't," he informed her. "I've tried. I have certainly tried, and the only thing I've succeeded in doing is giving myself schizophrenia."

"You are learning; you are young yet. I have watched you, young one. You are not like the dark one. You are…one of the good guys…?" Illisaith looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and she tittered merrily. "I am learning slang. I am doing well, yes?"

"Heh. Everything you do is perfect, Star," he laughed.

"You are a cad, young one," she teased.

A blue flash of light caught their attention and brought them back down to earth. In front of the now-active Stone Circle stood a woman in a black dress and hat. She walked toward the two, but stopped several paces away. Illisaith stopped as well, but Star drifted forward to get a better look.

"You're like me," Illisaith said. It was not a question, but the woman nodded anyway.

"I am the one you called to," she said in complete monotone. "My name is Kestra."

Illisaith folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "So what do you want, my eternal gratitude?"

"Be pleasant," Star said sharply. "She did aid in your freedom, yes? I am called Radiant Star or simply Star if you prefer."

Kestra's eyes widened in surprise. "You are the Eclipse? No, we will speak of it another time, if you are willing. I come to you now to tell you that your friends have crossed the mountain."

"How do you know?" Illisaith demanded suspiciously.

"I have been watching them," she admitted. "But I can say no more. I'm not permitted. Cross the mountains; they need your help." She turned and walked back into the Stone Circle. Just before she disappeared, Illisaith called out, "Thanks!"

"Come, young one," Star urged. "We must make haste." They hurried back to find the trail that led through the mountains.

* * *

"Shouldn't we have reached Triste by now?" Rosalyn muttered wearily. She sat down on the ground to pull her boots off and rub her aching feet.

"Did we go through the Transverse Tunnel?" Stan asked. He had continued to not show himself since they left Arlington; indeed, he had barely said two words to her.

"No, we went over the mountains," Rosalyn answered irritably. "You know, if you'd pay a little attention, you might know these things."

"If we went over the mountains, then no, we would not have reached Triste by now; and in case you forgot, I…can't…see."

Rosalyn shook her head. "Now, I know why this irritates Ari so much," she muttered. "If you can't see, then why don't you just come out here?"

"…maybe later…"

"Well, then quit complaining about-" Rosalyn broke off as something occurred to her. "Um…Stan, you can come out of there, can't you?"

"Of course, I can!" Stan roared without showing himself. "I just don't want to."

Rosalyn was beginning to have doubts about that, but she decided to play along, anyway. "Right. Fine. So, why aren't we in Triste again?"

"The Transverse Tunnel is a place where space is kind of…folded up," Stan attempted to explain. "It's like you're being teleported to somewhere else."

"Oh, wow," she breathed. "How far away is it?"

"I'm not really sure." He didn't seem inclined to elaborate, so Rosalyn stood and resumed walking, although she was loath to do so. The mountains had finally given way to a grass plain. It had been kind of pretty at first; the way the wind blew the grass made it look like an emerald ocean. Unfortunately, it got very old, very quickly.

Rosalyn was worried and bored, not a good combination. She wanted someone to talk to, to tell her worries to, but the only person around was Stan. Without actually being able to see him, talking to him felt too much like talking to herself. Of course, she didn't really want to talk to him anyway since their conversations invariably ended up in major disputes over minor points.

Stan was thinking along much those same lines. He was bored to tears, blind, and lonely. He did not want to talk to Rosalyn because she would ask questions that he was not in the mood to answer. Like why he didn't want to come out of her shadow. But there was no one else to talk to, and he was starting to feel claustrophobic and lonely. He was not surprised that he missed Ari; Ari was company. Ari kept him from being lonely. Ari was always there, and he almost always knew when to just shut up and let Stan rant. He always knew just what to say, too. Stan didn't want to find a new slave. He wanted his old one back. He was lonely. And bored.

And lonely.

He never used to get that lonely. He used to love being alone; it was the only time he had any piece with four siblings. Then Pollack had come and stuffed him in a bottle for three hundred years; nothing had been the same since. He growled quietly at his predicament.

If Rosalyn heard, she didn't say anything. The silence went on for a long time, made longer by monotony and concern for their friend. Finally, Stan decided he could not take any more. "Any sign of him yet?"

Rosalyn sighed. "No, not yet. Why do you even care, anyway?"

Stan would have rolled his eyes if he could. "Why do you keep asking me that?" he demanded sardonically. "What do you care what I care? I thought, according to you, I'm human."

"Well, obviously, I was wrong," she admitted. Before Stan could celebrate the confession, she went on. "Humans care about each other. You don't care about anything but yourself."

"So what's your point?"

Rosalyn stopped and glared down at her shadow. "My point is that I saved your life back there, and you don't even care! And I'm beginning to regret doing it!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't have!" Stan yelled back at her. He was glad she had helped him; there was no mistake about that. But he was not exactly going to admit that to her, was he? Rather than continue yelling, Rosalyn dropped to the ground and started to cry. "Ah, not again…" Stan moaned.

"Shut up! Stupid Evil King!" she wailed. "This is all your fault! I try to be a good Hero, and you always mess things up!"

"How do I mess things up?" he demanded at the top of his voice.

"Because you just do! You got Ari hurt, and now he's gone insane, and I shouldn't have let him go in there with you!"

"Well, who's fault is that?"

"Mine!" Rosalyn shouted angrily. "It's mine!"

They both fell silent. After a few minutes, Rosalyn stood and resumed walking. "So what's out this way anyway?" she asked, still sniffling a bit.

Stan didn't answer; he was preoccupied with his current train of thought.

"Stan?" Rosalyn said a little louder. "STAN!"

"What?" he demanded.

"I asked you what's out here."

"Well, how should I know? What, you think I'm omniscient or something? You know, despite all my grand intelligence, there are some things even I don't know!"

"Oh, never mind…" Rosalyn huffed angrily. "What are you so touchy for, anyway?"

Stan didn't actually mean to reply; at the very least, he didn't mean to tell her. "I'm powerless, stuck in your shadow, claustrophobic, bored, and lonely!" Stan mentally cringed, but the expected laughter failed to begin.

"So he did take your power…" Rosalyn said quietly.

"And what do you care, anyway?" Stan demanded. "You're the Hero. You're supposed to be trying to kill me, yet you save me! Then you force me to reveal that I am, in fact, weak! Now, when you should be celebrating my weakness, you're acting like you actually feel _sympathy _or something, which is a weak, human emotion that I don't need or want from you!"

Rosalyn took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm as she finally figured out what was wrong with Stan. He was humiliated, ashamed of his weakness. She kept her voice level as she said, "There's nothing weak about sympathy or caring about other people. It takes a lot more guts to run into a fire to save someone than it does to just save yourself."

"What it takes is stupidity," Stan argued. "What's the point of trying to save someone if you're both just going to be killed?"

"The point is that you tried," Rosalyn answered. "But I wouldn't expect a stupid Evil King like you to understand."

When Stan answered, he sounded in slightly better spirits. "Oh, I understand just fine. Humans are insane."

Rosalyn shook her head and chose not to pursue the conversation any further. Instead, she asked, "What did he do to you, anyway?"

Stan went silent for a very long time. Rosalyn could tell that this was a question he really did not want to answer. Finally, however, he did. "I'm a Shadow Demon, Pink. The key word there is 'shadow'. My body is mostly power, and my natural form requires that power to remain…ah…intact."

"By power, you mean your magic?"

"…No. It's a different kind of power. It's…it's the power that's created when light strikes an object."

"That's power?"

"Of a sort. Light hits something and makes a shadow. We Shadow Demons have that power inside us. Without it…my body looses cohesion. He stole that from me; that's why I was fading, and that's why I have to borrow your shadow. It's the only thing holding me together right now."

Rosalyn stopped and looked down at her shadow. "How?"

She could tell he was trying desperately not to bite her head off for her ignorance, which actually pleased her. It meant he was grateful to her, after all. When he started speaking, his voice was a bit strained, but he was trying to be civil. "Light is hitting you. It's creating a shadow. I'm in your shadow. You are holding your shadow together, which is holding me together."

"Oh…" Rosalyn said, understanding at last. "I get it. Will you ever recover it?"

"I will when we beat Ari."

They both went silent as the implication of those two words sank in. "Beat Ari." They were going to have to fight, and possibly kill, their best friend. And they had to do this because of Natasha.

Rosalyn started walking again. She knew where to go; her Hero sense was pulling her there. She sucked in breath between her teeth and said, "I…will…kill…her!"

She said it with such passion and anger that Stan was stunned, but he was also impressed. She'd never displayed any sort of real anger before, as far as he was concerned. She got mad at him for picking fights and being a pain, but that was different. That was just Rosalyn being way too uptight and prissy. Stan approved.

"Tell you what," he said. "Just to show my goodwill, I'll let you take the first stab at her."

Rosalyn snorted. "You mean considering you can't? How nice of you."

"I'll be able to by then."

Rosalyn laughed. "You know, if you really want to show your 'goodwill', you'll fix my shadow."

"Heh heh. Alright. As soon as I get my power back, I'll fix your shadow."

"Uh uh. No way, Stan. That's what you said last time. I want you to promise me you'll fix my shadow, and then I want you to keep that promise."

"I'll think about it."

"Stanley!"

The cheerful bickering went on for a long time while they followed Ari, but underneath it was the concern only one of them was willing to express.

* * *

Incubus stopped finally. This was a good place, he thought. Thanks to the power he had stolen from Stan, he had a keen awareness of Rosalyn's location; she was slowing, which meant she was tired and would be easily defeated. Stan, of course, had already been dealt with. He settled down to wait for his victims to arrive.

Deep inside his mind, Ari roused himself slightly. He knew what Incubus knew, and he was not yet so far gone that it didn't register. They were looking for him. They had joined forces to look for him. They were his friends, after all. Carefully, so as not to arouse Incubus' attention, he set about trying to wake himself up the rest of the way.


	28. Ch28: Damage

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Flash, I live for your reviews. ;) Okay, the title of this chapter came from the song I was listening to as I wrote it. Just wanted to explain that.

* * *

"Such damage," Star said quietly. She looked around in horror at the carnage that was once the village of Arlington. 

"Nice," Illisaith breathed.

"You are bad, young one," Star rebuked him. "Such loss of life is terrible; you must not be pleased by this."

"And yet, I am," Illisaith replied. "Remember who you're talking to, Star."

Star wilted; she knew all too well who he was. "Come, young dark one…our friends are not here."

"Hey! What did you call me?" he demanded.

"Ask not what we both know you heard," Star muttered.

Illisaith dashed in front of her and forced her to stop. "Oh, no. No, no, no. That's your name for him!"

"Are you not his reflection?"

Illisaith growled. "I am not him!"

Star squealed, eliciting a cringe from the Image. "Then cease to behave as though you are. This is horrible. If you refuse to be like the dark one, then you must agree with me."

Illisaith stared at her. He knew how he was behaving, and it was the same way he always behaved. Then he took a second look around and realized why Star was not her usual indulgent self. She had called him "one of the good guys"; good guys didn't enjoy seeing smoldering ruins. They didn't laugh at the sight of charred corpses littering the ground. He shook his head as he finally figured out why his mentally was becoming increasingly unstable.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I can't enjoy this, but I do. It's who I am. You can't fight who you are."

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and looked up into ocean blue eyes. "You must not give up, young one. That you have recognized this for what it is is good. But you cannot fight who you are if you continue to cling to it. You must let it all go."

She moved around him to continue on the mountain path. She knew he would follow when he was ready.

Mirror Evil King Illisaith took one last look around. Hero Illisaith grinned and left the last vestiges of his hated identity behind.

* * *

Rosalyn trudged a few more steps then sat down. It wasn't so bad when they had just been walking around; they could stop whenever they wanted to, whether Stan was yelling at them to keep going or not. Here, however, Rosalyn was on a mission; she didn't have time to just stop whenever she wanted. She had to keep going to save Ari. Or defeat him. 

She pushed that thought away. It was very easy to do considering she had plenty else to occupy her mind. Stan had been muttering to himself for some time. Rosalyn simply had to ask him why. He was the perfect distraction.

"I can't take it anymore!" he wailed. "You need to go on a diet, woman!"

"I am not fat, stupid Evil King!" she argued wearily.

"Hey! Are you taking a break?" Stan demanded.

"Well, I could sit down, or fall down," Rosalyn explained caustically.

"I don't recall telling you you could sit!"

"I don't need your permission, pancake shadow!" Despite her anger, Rosalyn grinned. Arguing with Stan almost made everything seem normal.

"You agreed to be my slave when you let me possess your shadow. Live with it, slave girl." He sounded far too smug.

"Or," Rosalyn offered. "I saved your life, and you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything," Stan growled. "This is the worst excuse for a shadow I've ever been in, you fat mule!"

"And how many would that be?"

There was a pause, then, "Two, but that's beside the point!"

Suddenly, the ground to either side of Rosalyn exploded in twin showers of dust and rock debris. Rosalyn scrambled to her feet and whirled, her rapier in hand as if by magic. Ari was standing behind her, a manic grin plastered to his face. His eyes were like a wild animal's. "Make it easy on yourself," he said. "Just give up, and I won't torture you."

"You ungrateful brat!" Stan yelled ineffectually. "Give me back my power!"

Ari sneered. "Temper, temper. I'll give it back…not!" He laughed.

Stan growled wordlessly; he was far too angry to form a coherent sentence, or even bother trying.

Rosalyn took a breath to steady her nerves and remind herself that this wasn't her friend anymore. "I will destroy you if I have to," she announced.

Ari snickered. "No, you won't. I'm your friend, remember? You can't kill me."

"I don't know you," Rosalyn said. "You're just an Evil King, and I will destroy you."

"We'll see." He grinned maliciously and threw an energy shot at Rosalyn, who ducked and rolled to the side. She lunged at Ari, who drew his sword and parried, then vanished in a black smoke. He reappeared behind her, but she had learned from Stan's mistake. Rather than turn to face him, she threw herself forward so that his blade cleaved through empty air.

"Not bad," he yelled with insane glee.

Rosalyn shook her head and lunged at him again. She was afraid it had simply been wishful thinking, but she had noticed that his parry was extremely clumsy. As he performed the move a second time, her suspicion was confirmed. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Why whatever do you mean?" he asked far too innocently.

Rosalyn ignored Stan, who was demanding to know what she talking about. "You're not Ari," she explained viciously as she traded blows with him. "You're too clumsy, and your style is way off. Who are you?"

He fended off one last blow then vanished. Rosalyn ducked to the side this time; the ground where she had been standing suddenly became black and burned. "Who am I?" he asked, a manic glint in his eyes. "I am the King of Nightmares," he announced. "I am the lord of all things that dream. I am Incubus." He grinned viciously. "And…I am your friend Ari. His mind is dormant inside mine. Kill me, and you'll kill him, as well." He laughed maniacally, secure in the knowledge that he had already won.

"Stan?" Rosalyn asked quietly.

"I've never heard of him," he replied, just as quietly.

Rosalyn nodded, having forgotten that Stan couldn't see her. She knew what she had to do, but she did not want to. "He's possessed," she whispered. "Don't you know anything about that?"

Before Stan could respond, Incubus gave a wordless yell and charged Rosalyn. It was a foolhardy move; he was clearly daring her to take the opening. She dodged, then dodged again as he swung. "You can't kill me," he laughed. "But I can kill you."

"Ari!" Rosalyn yelled. She bit back a sob. "I'm sorry!" She lunged; her sword went in far too easily.

Incubus stopped and looked down as she pulled it back out. "No, that's cheating," he muttered. He sank to his knees. "No, she said you wouldn't hurt me. That's cheating…you can't kill…him…But I still win…he's still…part of me…" He grinned weakly, then his eyes went blank and he fell forward.

Rosalyn dropped her rapier and lunged forward. She carefully rolled him over and put her hands over the wound.

Stan started to ask if he was dead, but the abrupt return of his power rendered that inquiry void. He gratefully pulled himself out of Rosalyn's shadow and looked at the scene he was now able to see. Ari was still breathing, but barely. Rosalyn was in a trance, trying to heal him.

Ari had lost far too much blood prior to being possessed by Incubus. Between that, the trauma of possession, and being stabbed, Stan didn't think the boy would survive, even with Rosalyn's help. There was a time when he would simply have shrugged and killed Rosalyn while she was vulnerable. Now…

He tried to imagine life without his slave to torment and found that he could not. He had come to like having Ari around. He crossed his arms and attempted to look uncaring as Rosalyn roused herself.

"I've done what I can," she sighed. She noticed Stan and glanced up. "I don't think he's going to make it. It's like he's not even there."

Stan leaned down to hoist Ari over his shoulder. "He's not," he said simply.

* * *

The sun was just starting to come up when an entire army of wind chimes set up a caterwauling that would have made the dead yell for a little peace. Star shot forward ahead of Illisaith to meet Rosalyn and Stan. Although she was demanding answers, Illisaith was the only one who could tell. 

"Would you do something about that?" Stan yelled.

Illisaith grabbed Star by the arm and held her still. "Star! Shut up!" To Rosalyn, he said, "What happened?"

"He was possessed by a creature called Incubus-" she began.

Star squealed painfully. "The Nightmare King?"

"You've heard of him?" Stan demanded.

Star nodded. "He is a creature like my brother and I. There were several of us created around the same time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Stan interrupted. "Get to the point. How do we beat him, and can we still save my slave?"

Star shook her wings and sighed. "I wish brother was here…I can send you there, but Incubus is a devourer of souls. I fear you will not find Ari there any longer."

"Well, we have to try," Rosalyn said firmly.

Stan laid Ari on the ground. "That thing tried to take my property," he said in a low, dangerous tone. "It's not going to get away with it."

Star blinked. She seemed to smile, but her voice was serious. "This is not a place you can go physically, and defeating Incubus will be your only means of escape. There is no return if you fail." In the face of their unwavering resolve, she nodded once. "Then lie on the ground and close your eyes. The young one will guard you, and I will do what I can for young Ari."

Stan and Rosalyn were already down, but Rosalyn looked back at Star. "Any advice?"

"Incubus is old and mad," Star replied. "Be wary for you will face your worst fears there. What you see will depend on you. Stay together. I know no more. Are you ready?"

They signaled that they were, so she began to hum. It was low, quiet, and discordant. When she finally stopped, she sighed. "I do not like that song."

"Neither do I," Illisaith agreed. "Can you do anything for him?"

"I can keep him alive," she confirmed. "But it will be for naught if they cannot recover his mind."

"Never mind that now. Just do what you can." He wandered around to sit next to Rosalyn. Star chirped something, eliciting a mock glare from her friend, before she turned her full attention to Ari.

Illisaith watched her for a few minutes, then started playing with Rosalyn's hair simply because she wasn't awake to make him stop. Something about her seemed slightly off; when he realized what it was, he gave Stan an amazed stare and started to laugh. He wondered if Rosalyn had noticed yet.


	29. Ch29: Within the Nightmare

Everything was dark. There was no sight, no sound, no feeling. Then a bright flash of light intruded upon the nothingness, and the world slowly faded into focus. Stan and Rosalyn exchanged glances, and took in their surroundings.

They were in a swamp, ankle deep in muck. Lichen-covered trees were the only features of the dark quagmire. There were no islands, no roots poking out of the murk. Nothing moved.

Stan grinned. "Feels like home."

Rosalyn rolled her eyes. "Yep," she said. "This is a nightmare, all right. Where are we going?"

Stan looked around and shrugged. "Well, I would say we go towards that giant tree over there." He gestured into the distance where a dark mass that could only be described as a giant tree could just barely be seen. Without waiting for Rosalyn, he started slogging towards it. She hastened to follow.

"Hey, wait up! Star said we should stay together."

"That oversized lightning bug says a lot of things. If you want to stick together, then keep up."

Rosalyn huffed. "Oh, yeah. Stuck in a swamp with you. This is definitely my idea of a nightmare."

Stan smirked. "You are a nightmare, woman."

A low rumbling interrupted them. They froze, ready for battle, until well after it had stopped. "What was that?" Rosalyn murmured.

"You tell me, dishwater Hero."

"And what makes you so certain it's my nightmare?"

Stan drew himself up and said, in as egotistical a tone as he could, "I don't have nightmares. I fear nothing."

Rosalyn was reminded of the unfathomable fear she had seen in his eyes when he had nearly disappeared. She very nearly reminded him of that, but he would only come up with several, earsplitting reasons why she was stupid to think he could possibly have been scared. She was not in the mood to deal with his prattling; she wanted to save Ari if it was still possible.

Suddenly, a giant reptilian creature strode into view from around a tree. It resembled a cross between a chicken and an iguana, and was the size of a small house. Stan grinned. "Hey, I remember this one! Stupid chicken tried to take a bite out of me!" He laughed at the memory.

Any reply Rosalyn might have made was drowned out when the thing screamed in a voice that made shivers go down her spine. It leaned forward, opened its scaly, vestigial wings, and charged. Rosalyn and Stan dodged to either side as the Jurassic chicken rushed past them and stumbled to a stop. It squawked and whirled to pounce at Stan, who arrogantly cast a blaze spell at it. As it flapped and squawked with pain, Rosalyn lunged forward through the flailing wings and shoved her rapier deep into its chest. It screeched in agony; Rosalyn was forced to abandon her rapier in favor of escaping with her life as the creature attempted to bite her head off. It burst into flame again and, with one last screech, fell backward. The murky swamp water put the fire out, but the giant chicken didn't move again.

"That was a chicken…?" Rosalyn muttered, out of breath.

"It was a demon chicken," Stan scoffed. "Your turn."

Rosalyn shook her head. "And why should I tell you what scares me?"

"Because I'm going to find out anyway, airhead!" he pointed out. "We might as well be prepared for it."

Difficult logic to argue with…"I used to be scared of spiders," she sighed as she retrieved her rapier. "And snakes. But I'm not anymore!"

Stan chuckled. "We'll see…"

He was insufferable as always. Rosalyn looked at Stan out of the corner of her eyes. She could not believe she was actually working with him to save Ari. It wasn't so much the "working with him" part, either. It was the "to save Ari" part that kept getting to her. She was half-tempted to ask again why he cared, but she knew she would never get a straight answer out of him.

"Rosalyn!" shouted a male voice. She jumped and turned guiltily.

"D-daddy?" she whimpered slightly.

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" A massive, shadowy giant stood in front of her; she cowered.

"I wasn't doing anything, daddy! I swear it!"

"You think you can lie to me?" the thing roared. It reached back an arm like a tree trunk and swung right at Rosalyn's head. She squealed and cringed, but the blow never connected. A black shadow reared up before Rosalyn and caught it.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hit a lady?" Stan sneered. He twisted the giant's arm until it nearly came off. The thing roared and vanished. He changed back to his true form and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Like I'm going to tell you," Rosalyn answered. She held the fist that was not clutching her rapier up to her heart as she steadied her nerves. Her father was the reason she became a Hero. She wanted to stop people like him from hurting innocents like her mother.

Not that she would ever say that aloud to Stan.

"Like I'd want you to, anyway," Stan said scathingly as he turned to go. He had a feeling he already knew. "Oh, by the way," he said, turning slightly back toward Rosalyn without stopping. "I don't owe you anything," he sneered.

Rosalyn looked after him, torn between laughter and outrage. Finally, as she hastened to catch up, she grinned. "Guess that means I'm not your slave anymore, huh?"

"Ha! Guess again, fat butt! Just like Ari, you are my slave for life!"

"Yeah, or not!" she replied. "I saved your life, you fake evil being."

Stan growled. "I could have managed just fine on my own!"

"A pathetic weakling like you?" The speaker stepped out from behind a tree and adopted a familiar pose of egotistical superiority. It was a man with pointed ears, yellow eyes, and jet-black hair. He was as tall as Stan, and his finely chiseled bone structure and dark features proved who he was better than any paternity test. Rosalyn raised her rapier and sneaked a glance at Stan. His eyes were narrowed, and he was already grinding his teeth.

"Look at you," the dream version of Stan's father continued caustically. "Associating with Heroes? Gallivanting off to rescue some foolish human child? You never change."

There was lightning playing across Stan knuckles. Rosalyn took a few steps away so as not to be caught in the blast zone that was sure to follow. "You are nothing but an image from my mind," Stan said from between clenched teeth.

"If you believe that, you're even more stupid than I gave you credit for," replied his father.

"You are three hundred years dead," Stan informed him. "And good riddance!"

"Stanley, you're pathetic," his father said, pointedly ignoring that remark. "How you got to be Shadow King instead your brother, I'll never know."

"You dare-" He broke off with great effort and closed his eyes. "You're not real. You're not even there. I'm arguing with a ghost."

"Oh, I'm a ghost, now, am I? When are you going to admit that you're nothing but a second rate moron with delusions of grandeur?"

"Unforgivable! How dare you insult moi, Evil King Stan?"

His father crossed his arms and smirked. "You're all talk. Show me what you've learned in three hundred years."

Stan was shaking with rage; even long dead, his father had the ability to make him so angry he literally saw red. If his father wanted a show, he'd get one. Without bothering to think of the possible consequences, Stan drew on all his power and threw it in raw form at his father. The resulting explosion left a good-sized crater in the swamp and drove Stan, exhausted and out of breath, to his knees.

Rosalyn looked at the slowly fading crater and back at Stan. She was truly afraid to go near him, but she needed to do something. He seemed to be on the verge of passing out. "Uh…are you going to be okay?" she asked tentatively.

He nodded slightly but said nothing.

Rosalyn looked around; there didn't seem to be anything around to attack them. She suddenly realized that her Hero sense wasn't working; she had not known any of those things were about to attack. She couldn't even sense Stan, here, which was actually kind of a blessing. She carefully sidled closer to him. She was about to ask if he needed help, but thought better of it. Just because he seemed to be exhausted did not necessarily mean that he wouldn't try to kill her; he was clearly still enraged by his father's appearance.

"Is there anything I can do…?" she asked at last. It seemed to be the safest way to phrase the question.

Stan muttered something then shook his head slightly and repeated himself. "I'm not…an invalid…"

"I can honestly believe that," she assured him. She paused, then decided to try some Ari-style tactics. "I'm just saying…if there was anything I could do to make it easier…since you obviously don't need help…" She trailed off as Stan turned his head slightly to glare. "Never mind," she finished.

Stan closed his eyes again. He was fighting a loosing battle with his consciousness. He internally berated himself for his stupidity and wished Rosalyn would keep talking. It had actually seemed to help keep him awake. Or aware, at least. The last thing he wanted was to pass out in front of his worst enemy. It wouldn't be quite as bad as being forced to borrow her shadow, but it would still be pretty humiliating.

Rosalyn shifted her weight and looked around again. She thought she saw movement in the distance, but she couldn't go check it out with Stan-

A wet thump caused her to whirl, rapier at the ready, but there was nothing there. She looked down to see that Stan had fallen over, and tried to restrain her laughter. "You really are a moron, you know?" she informed his unconscious body as she rolled him onto his back. She wasn't sure if he could drown here, but it never hurt to be too careful, after all.

The swamp was even creepier without Stan to take her mind off of it. She drew her rapier; although she didn't feel any safer, she was ready should she be attacked. Something moved again, and this time she was sure of it. It was a lot closer, just a simple parting of the water, quickly gone. Rosalyn slowly moved into a defensive stance. She was afraid she knew what was coming.

In her younger years at the Hero Academy, Rosalyn had managed to make enemies of the two most popular girls. It had been a classic teen-aged grudge started by nothing and facilitated by nothing. For some reason, Rosalyn had simply gotten on their nerves. She suspected that her name had been drawn from a hat.

One day, in order to make of fool of her, the two girls had pushed her into a river. There had been laughter, there had been tears, and there had been a cottonmouth snake that no one saw. Rosalyn had not been hurt; she had run screaming the second it brushed her leg. But she had nightmares about it for the rest of the week. She had eventually outgrown her fear of snakes. Apparently, Incubus did not care.

A giant, triangular head emerged from the swamp water, far larger than could have been successfully hidden beneath the surface. The great serpent opened its gaping maw to reveal two fangs easily as long as Rosalyn's rapier, and lunged. She was forced to abandon her post guarding Stan, but the creature wasn't interested in him anyway. It coiled its massive body and struck again. Rosalyn dodged a second time and swung a glancing blow at the side of the creature's head.

She backed slowly away as the thing coiled around, reared back its head, and struck. Although she had long since overcome her fear of snakes, fighting this giant serpent was starting to awaken her old phobia. It took all her courage to hold her ground until the last second; fortunately, her aim was unaffected. Rosalyn was a professional, after all, and used to dealing with scary situations.

She shoved her rapier through the roof of its mouth while twisting between its fangs. They brushed her skin, alarmingly close, but even when the creature jerked back in pain, she managed to remain unhurt. It shook its head violently and turned to hiss, but as it reared back to lunge again, a thick frost suddenly coated its eyes.

Rosalyn spared a moment for a vicious grin as her childhood nightmare cast about, directionless and blind, in a futile attempt to find her. Rather than give it the benefit, she used her Hero power to augment her ice magic and encased its head in a block of ice. It thrashed around madly and slammed its head into the ground, the trees, itself. Not only did the ice refuse to crack, it was quickly creeping down the serpent's body. Before long, the creature had become nothing more than a snake-shaped ice sculpture.

Rosalyn lowered her arm and leaned against a nearby tree to catch her breath and watch as all signs of the battle faded. "See?" she said triumphantly to Stan's inert form. "You're not the only one who can use magic."

* * *

Illisaith finished off a pair of weak, rabbit-type ghosts and turned back to Star. She was still humming, and apparently completely out of touch with the rest of the world. The sound had been pretty at first, but it had started to grate on his nerves. At least, Ari seemed to have regained some color, for all the good it did him. Without his mind, his body would die soon. Star was trying to stave that moment off, but she could not keep it up forever.

"Star," Illisaith called. There was no response, but he didn't really expect one. "He'll be fine for a little while, at least. You need to take a break before you burn yourself out."

He did not expect her to actually stop, and he was not disappointed. He sighed and resumed his station next to Rosalyn's sleeping form. It occurred to him that she looked like an angel, lying there. The demon in the back of his mind demanded that he take advantage of the situation, and he squashed it. That was not who he was anymore. He smiled.


	30. Ch30: Mortal Enemies

There was a moment when he could see blue sky above, then the murky darkness of Incubus' swamp faded back into focus. Before he moved, he took an internal inventory. He was not certain how long he had been out, but he was stiff, cold, wet, and muddy. At least he had regenerated some of his power.

At that point, everything else slammed into his head and he groaned. "I did not pass out!" Stan announced before he even opened his eyes. The sound of soft laughter was his only reply.

Rosalyn covered her mouth with her hand as Stan pulled himself up and glared angrily. "I didn't!" he repeated.

Rosalyn nodded happily. "Yes, you did."

"I just closed my eyes for a few minutes!"

"And then fell over for a few hours."

Stan snarled wordlessly. He desperately wanted to retort, but he couldn't think of anything. Finally, he simply growled, "Rodent woman!" and resumed walking.

"So you didn't have a great childhood either, huh?" Rosalyn asked after a few minutes.

After a few more minutes, Stan shook his head, though in exasperation, not agreement. "I think I hate that man more than I hate you," he muttered.

"Considering you've never done that to me, I'd have to agree," Rosalyn dared. She expected Stan to turn on her, but he was still wiped out from the attack on his father and ignored her. She shrugged. "Well, you missed the giant snake," she informed him.

"What a pity," he responded in a flat tone.

"It nearly ate you."

"I'm sure it did."

"…You're not falling for it?"

"I'm not in the mood."

Rosalyn grinned. "Isn't that my line?"

Stan huffed. Normally, he would be more than happy to oblige Rosalyn in the fight she was attempting to pick, but he was tired and embarrassed that he had let her see him get out of control. "If you really want to die, I'll be more than happy to help you with that as soon as I get my slave back."

Rosalyn sighed. "Just making sure you're okay," she admitted.

Stan stopped and whirled around to face her. "Why do you even care?" he demanded as he advanced on her. "You're a Hero! We're mortal enemies! What does it matter to you if I'm still alive or not?"

Rosalyn stood her ground without flinching, and he was forced to stop or walk into her. "Because Ari thinks of you as a friend, though darn if I can figure out why!" she answered. "And if I ever let anything happen to you, I don't think he'd forgive me!"

The look of pure bewilderment on Stan's face was priceless. Then he sneered and the moment was gone. "Well, I'll have to straighten him out later, won't I?" he said, his good humor slowly returning. At least he understood why Rosalyn seemed so concerned now, even if he didn't understand Ari's attitude. He went on a long tangent about useless slaves becoming too familiar with the master as the two of them resumed their journey.

Rosalyn sighed in impatient frustration. She wondered, not for the first time, exactly what good Ari saw in the Evil King. He was loud, obnoxious, conceited, and rude at the best of times. At the worst…

Suddenly, she walked into him, and he did not yell insults. He didn't even turn to glare. He was frozen in place, his eyes fixed on an old man who stood in their path. Rosalyn loosened her rapier, but she couldn't see anything particularly alarming. It was just an old man holding a-

Then she realized that it wasn't the man that had stopped the Evil King in his tracks. It was the bejeweled, purple bottle the man was holding. She glanced back at Stan, whose eyes were fixed on that bottle. Then he did something she had never seen him do before: he started backing away.

Rosalyn stepped between the two of them and raised her rapier. "I won't hesitate to kill you," she said.

The old man tilted his head slightly. "You already have, Miss Hero," he said. "Now, stand aside. This isn't meant for you."

"I will do no such thing," she announced.

The man heaved a regretful sigh. "Then I'm afraid you have forced me to call my backup."

"I hope you'll provide me with more of a challenge than he did," said a voice to her left. She whirled to face another old man, though this one was slightly younger than the other. He saluted her with his sword. "Well, Miss Hero?"

Before she could react, he was practically on top of her. She parried his blows with the mindlessness born of familiarity as she tried to think. She decided he must be Hero Hopkins because the other man was clearly Pollack. She had known that Stan had to have met Pollack because that was who sealed him in the bottle. But he had never mentioned meeting Hopkins before. She resolved to pester him with questions later as she ducked quickly so that her opponent's sword bit into the tree behind her.

Hopkins yanked it back out just in time to block Rosalyn's swing. "I should have seen that coming," he admitted.

"Well, Stan wouldn't have," Rosalyn allowed. "And you are just a memory from his mind, after all."

Hopkins dodged another swing, then jabbed towards Rosalyn's heart. He smiled when she twisted away expertly. "Am I?" he asked. "You're pretty good at this, by the way."

"I've been studying since I was old enough to hold a practice sword," she confessed haughtily as they traded blows. "And what do you mean by that?"

He swatted her rapier hard with the flat of his blade and nearly caused her to lose her grip. "All things that dream bow to the King of Nightmares," he answered. "Our lord is a devourer of minds and souls. He knows what you fear, and he provides it from within himself."

"Wait, wait, wait," Rosalyn said. She swung towards his head; he ducked beneath it. "Are you saying you're the real Hero Hopkins?"

"I am the remnant of who that man was, yes." He locked blades with her. "You're here too, you know, or your consciousness at least? And your little friend. That one, too." He nodded at Stan. "Everyone you know is part of the Nightmare King. And when you die here, your soul will be his as well."

Rosalyn gritted her teeth. "That's never going to happen!" she yelled. She pulled back ever so slightly, just enough to make Hopkins think he was winning. As expected, he took the offered opening, not realizing that it was an illusion. Rosalyn had spent most of her time at the Hero Academy fighting boys who were stronger than she was. Every single one of them fell for this trick at least twice. She pulled back just a hair's breadth more, then shoved forward suddenly. Hopkins, who had pushed forward in answer to the second opening, was off balance and easily knocked backward. Rosalyn made a very controlled swing towards Hopkins head. When he raised his sword to deflect the blow, she halted the swing and turned it into a jab. As the point of her rapier passed through his flesh, he vanished. "Gets 'em every time," she said with joyful scorn before turning to go rescue Stan.

* * *

Stan stopped backing up when Rosalyn stepped between him and Pollack. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and actually considered releasing her as his slave to show his gratitude. She wasn't much of one, anyway. But Hopkins appeared and forced her to fight, leaving Pollack and Stan alone.

"You can't escape, boy," the old man said. "Just give in and make it easy on yourself."

"No!" Stan yelled. "I am not going in there!" Just the thought was making him feel claustrophobic. Just the sight of that bottle made a little knot of fear tighten around his heart. Three hundred years had been bad, but he had grown accustomed to it as time passed. He hadn't really believed he would ever get out again. When he had finally found freedom, he had been ecstatic until he realized that he couldn't survive for long in Rosalyn's shadow. Going back into the bottle then, however, had almost been painful. For a few seconds, he had something like freedom, and becoming a prisoner again had been almost more than he could bear. He wasn't certain he could survive going into it now, figuratively speaking. He threw energy at Pollack, but it was a weak attack. Stan cursed his idiocy at allowing a dream image to make him lose control.

Pollack clicked his tongue as he used his own magic as a shield. "Now, you're not going to make me repress your power again, are you?" He gave the impression that he was chastising a small child.

Stan thought quickly. If he went into his shadow form, he could get away faster, but it would be easier for Pollack to catch him in the bottle. If he stayed in his true form, Pollack would simply repress his power and catch him. He looked around frantically and decided to make it as difficult as possible. Abandoning all pretense at dignity, he turned and ran. He would worry about what Rosalyn might say later.

Pollack sighed and shook his head. "You never learn, do you?" He muttered the words to the spell for repressing Stan's power as he walked after him.

Stan thought he had outrun Pollack until he felt his form begin to waver. With a frightened whine, he ran harder, but to no avail. He tried to hold on to his power, but he was quickly loosing his awareness of it. His body started to go numb, causing him to trip and go sprawling. He tried to get back up; he wasn't even thinking anymore. Preservation instincts took hold of his mind and commanded him to keep running and never mind that he couldn't feel his own body anymore. If he could just get far enough away…

Then he caught sight of his hand as it began to vanish and even instinct failed him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was disgusted with himself for this display of cowardice, but that part was overruled by the rest, which thought paralyzing panic was a perfectly acceptable reaction.

"Really, boy," Pollack sighed. "Making me chase you all over. Disgraceful." He walked around in front of Stan and tapped the mouth of the bottle.

"S…stop…" Stan whined as the old man said the words that would pull him in. Then the world went dark. His brain calmed down enough to resume working just enough to realize why it had suddenly gone dark, then it shut down again. He threw himself against the walls of his prison in unthinking frenzy for a long time.

Finally, however, he had to stop as exhaustion took over and forced him to start thinking again. "This is ridiculous," he muttered in contempt. "I'm not even really here. I'm outside, in the fresh air. This is just a dream." He paused, then yelled ineffectually, "Damn you! You bastard! Let me out of here! When I get my hands on you, I'll smash you flat and use you for a doormat!" He felt a falling sensation and deduced that Pollack had dropped him somewhere. He resumed throwing himself against the sides of the bottle, but it did little to help his predicament.

His power was not gone, it had simply been suppressed; however, it would not regenerate until he got out of here. He could not get the bottle open from the inside since only a certain kind of power could open it. He had no idea how long he was going to have to wait for Rosalyn, assuming she could even find him now. He gave a last, half-hearted shove at the stopper then settled down to wait. He had to believe that she would find him, and he had to hate himself for that need. He was Evil King Stan. The world trembled at his feet. The thought that he had to rely on some worthless human female to rescue him was galling. He decided to pass the time by figuring out what he was going to do to Incubus when he got hold of him.

* * *

Illisaith glanced up as the low buzzing finally ceased. Star flickered and chimed softly. "I told you earlier that would happen," he said in gentle rebuke. "He'll be fine for a while. Just take a break."

Star sighed and sank to the ground. "If not for me, this would not have happened," she said quietly. She held up a hand to forestall the inevitable contradiction. "Speak not, young one. Let me explain.

"Long ago, when the world was young, Incubus was known by a different name. He was the spirit of solitude, and eternally lonely. He was so desperate for companionship, alone in the world of dreams; he befriended humans, but their lives fade so quickly. To that end, he sought out the other spirits. He only wanted a friend, yet we drove him away. Although it seems foolish reasoning now, we feared it would upset balance to allow what he desired. He was meant to be alone.

"He grew more and more desperate for someone to share his eternal life with, someone who would not leave him as his human friends did. We watched and did nothing as he went mad and began devouring dreams. He sought out human minds and found them in bits and pieces. The disconnected thoughts and feelings only exacerbated his condition. He named himself Incubus after the human word for nightmares and gave himself the title of Nightmare King. Throughout the millennia, he has acquired countless pieces of consciousness. When he began devouring souls as well, we merely turned away."

Star stopped and looked at the ground, reliving those days. Her eyes reflected sadness and regret. She shook her head as Illisaith started to go to her. "You are a kindred spirit, young one," she sighed. "But I must confess this sin. Had we not driven him away, he would not have become Incubus in the first place. For that, we shall always be to blame."

"You can't know what's going to happen," Illisaith tried to reassure her. "All you can do is what you think is best."

Star smiled teasingly. "And when did the young one become such a sage? Although that is true, the fault is still ours. Two mistakes, we made; two mistakes that have caused the world great pain. Incubus was the first; Beiloune was the second. I see this now. I was so cold back then. All of you have taught me so much; I am eternally in your debt." She gazed mournfully into the distance. "I only hope to one day share all I have learned with my brother."

This time, she did not object when Illisaith walked over to sit next to her. "You will," he said quietly. "I promise you that."


	31. Ch31: The Mirror Evil King

The fight with Hopkins had taken Rosalyn farther away than she realized. She was mildly surprised to see that Stan was waiting for her when she finally got back to where she had left him. He was leaning against a tree, but he stood upright when she approached.

"What happened to Pollack?" she asked, looking around.

Stan shrugged. "I took care of him."

Rosalyn blinked. There was a distinct lack of arrogant mockery in that pronouncement that was rather unnerving. "Um…okay," she said uncertainly. "Well, I'm glad you're okay…"

Stan shrugged again. "Whatever. Let's go."

Rosalyn narrowed her eyes. There was something different about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Other than the lack of scorn, that is. That could be attributed to any number of things. This was something else. She watched him go; it was almost like watching a film negative. "Illisaith?" she called.

He stopped, then turned, grinning. "I was wondering how long I could fool you," he said good-naturedly.

Rosalyn huffed. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "And where's Stan?"

Illisaith pouted. "What do you care? I'm here, now. You don't need him."

"He could be in trouble," she persisted. "Do you know where he went?"

Illisaith stepped closer to look down at her. "He's fine," he answered quietly. "But I'm here, now. Let's go together and just leave him behind."

Rosalyn did not like the look in his eyes. It reminded her of a rabid dog she had seen once. She took a step away and put her hand on her rapier. "What's with you?" she asked suspiciously. "I know you don't like him, but-"

When he lunged for her this time, she was ready. She leaped back and drew her rapier in one smooth motion. He snarled at having been foiled. "Why won't you hate him like you're supposed to?" he demanded. "I want you to come with me and forget about him."

"Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends!" This wasn't like Illisaith at all. Yes, he was unpredictable, but he had not become violent since that night at the Mirage. Then, suddenly, it hit her: this wasn't Illisaith, either.

He melted to the ground in shadow form and moved underneath her feet. She tried to get away, but he was able to reach up and knock her to ground. Her rapier went flying; she rolled to the side and tried to grab for it, but a shadowy, three-fingered claw caught her wrist. As she tried to break free, the dream incarnation of Illisaith grabbed her other hand and forced it to the murky ground. Rosalyn closed her eyes, but she couldn't turn her head away because of the swamp water. The last thing she needed was to inhale it.

"Get off of me," she said from between clenched teeth.

"You want this, and you know it," he murmured next to her ear.

Rosalyn suddenly remembered that she a second weapon at her disposal, an oversight she would chastise herself for later. She did not like relying on her Hero power; it felt like laziness. Now, however, she had no other choice. "Don't you even try to tell me what I want," she growled in a menacing tone that would have made Stan proud. Summoning her power from the well inside her mind, she gathered it up and shoved it at him, an attack that not only succeeded in knocking him back but caused his form to waver.

Illisaith returned to three dimensions; his face was a mask of insane, mindless rage. "You will pay for that, Hero woman!"

"I didn't want to fight you," she informed him. "But you're not my Illisaith."

"Oh, but I am," he contradicted her. "I'm the demon he never wanted to be. He threw me aside because of you, and now you will die for it!"

Rosalyn didn't have time to reflect on his choice of words because she was too busy dodging his attacks. He threw power at her in wrathful glee, laughing maniacally as she jumped and dodged and ran. She tried to reach her rapier, but a shot landed just in front of her, and she was forced to abandon it for a second time.

"You can't escape me!" the Mirror Evil King screamed as Rosalyn ducked behind a tree to catch her breath. He was nothing like Illisaith, who tried to be decent if not good. He was nothing like Stan, who was usually more inclined to fight with words than actions. His single-minded madness reminded her of Beiloune. She wondered if this was what Stan could have become, or something else entirely. Not that it mattered now.

She heard the sounds of mini-explosions cease and started to lean around to see what was happening. Suddenly, a thick, black smoke materialized before her. She knew that move; it was exactly what happened when Stan teleported somewhere. She gathered her magic together, and the second the Mirror Evil King appeared in the smoke, she threw an arctic blast of ice at him and ran to hide behind a different tree. Without a weapon, this desperate game of hide and seek was her best chance of survival. She didn't dare try to go find it now; it would be suicide to go hunting through that murky water.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," her opponent sang. There was no sanity there. Rosalyn suddenly realized that she could use that to her advantage. This creature's madness made it predictable, unlike the real Illisaith. She grinned as she realized that she could probably use the same tactics against it as she did Stan.

She readied her power and jumped out from behind the tree. "Come and get me, then, you fake evil being!" she yelled and threw her ice spell at him again.

As expected, he roared in wordless fury and started throwing fireballs at her. She ducked and started running again, this time in circles around him. Just like Stan, he preferred to stay stationary whenever possible. As long as Rosalyn was where he could hit her, he was not going anywhere. She called on her Hero power to augment her magic ice and started throwing chunks of it back at her opponent.

"Stan can't beat me," she yelled. "Illisaith can't beat me! What makes you think you can?"

"I WANT to!" he announced joyously.

Rosalyn was saved from having to think about the implication when she tripped over something and hit the ground hard. Pain shot through her leg, but it faded quickly. She hadn't twisted anything. When she looked to see what had tripped her, she grinned. It occurred to her to wonder when she had gotten back over here, but she decided not to dwell on it.

"You're mine, now!" yelled her opponent. He rushed her, intending to finish her off with his bare hands. She held her position until just before he reached her, then grabbed the hilt of her rapier and shoved the blade into his chest.

"I think not," she said scathingly as he gave an enraged howl and vanished. The last remnants of the Mirror Evil King were no more. She healed her ankle where the blade of her rapier had sliced it; it wasn't a bad wound, and she didn't even need to go into a trance to do it. Then she stood breathlessly for a time as she tried to figure out which way Stan would have gone. The murky swamp water left no tracks, and any hints she might have gotten from broken foliage would have long since healed.

"Okay," she muttered. "Pollack was there; Stan was there." She turned to each location in turn. "Stan was backing up, so it's probably a safe bet that he would continue…" She sighed. She had been rather too busy to pay attention at the time, but she didn't think Stan had fought. She was relatively certain she would have heard that. Except that meant… "Oh, my…Stan, did you actually run from a fight?" she asked the empty air. Shaking her head and laughing, she took off in the direction she thought he must have gone.

The lack of animal noises in the swamp was disconcerting. All the trees looked pretty much alike, and Rosalyn couldn't be entirely sure she wasn't just going in circles. Still, she made her slow way past them in the soundless bog, carefully checking everywhere for any sign of her quarry. She kept her rapier at the ready, just in case Incubus decided to send anything else after her while she was alone. She didn't think he would break with pattern, but she didn't want to take the chance.

"Stan, where are you?" she yelled. She didn't expect a response, but she thought she heard some kind of faint rustling noise. Deciding that was as good a direction as any, she followed it. She yelled for Stan again when the noise stopped, and it started up again. After that, she played the strangest game of Marco Polo she had ever been in. She walked aimlessly around yelling for her comrade and listening for the response for a long time. Several times she thought she had found him, only to find that she walked past him somehow. Finally, however, she succeeded in pinpointing his location.

She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter at the sight of a gaudy purple bottle rattling around in some foliage as though possessed. She leaned down and said, "Now I think I like this idea. Maybe I'll just leave you in there."

The bottle stopped shaking while she spoke. Once she finished, it rocked violently towards her and toppled over, then rolled around for a bit until she picked it up. She couldn't quite hear him, but she didn't have to know that he was calling her every foul name in the book and quite a few that weren't. She grinned. "You know," she began. Stan stopped again. "If you would just be nice to me once in a while, I might actually consider letting you out of there."

Stan hit the inside of the bottle so hard that he nearly knocked it out of her hand. "Alright! Alright! Geeze, if you're going to pout…" She pulled the stopper off of the bottle and Stan came rushing out, taking care to knock her over as he did so. He reformed in his shadow form behind her.

"It took you long enough!" he yelled at the top of his voice. He raked the air for emphasis. "Do you have any idea what I've been through while you were playing around?"

"Do I care?" Rosalyn grumbled, standing.

Stan narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I should shove you in there some time and see how you like it."

Rosalyn laughed derisively. "I just beat off dream versions of Hero Hopkins and Illisaith, single-handedly. I would love to see you try." She replaced the stopper on the bottle and tossed it to the ground, then strutted past Stan in her best imitation of him until he chuckled evilly.

"You have nightmares about Illisaith?" he asked pleasurably.

She had never been happier to be ambushed by vampires in her life.


	32. Ch32: The Spirit of Solitude

Well, it's official. You guys have now completely caught up to everything I've written. Updates might be a few days between each other now, but they will continue to be posted. I have far too many ideas rattling around in my brain to stop now. Besides, I can't disappoint my fans. ;)

* * *

Incubus hovered high atop his palace and looked around at the swamp his two victims had summoned. He rather liked the effect and thought he might leave it that way even after they were gone. He was a bit worried, though. His plan to wear them down was not working like it was supposed to. He had expected them to cower in terror from the sight of their nightmares, to be jumping at every imagined sound by the time they arrived. Anyone else would have.

And sending the Mirror Evil King after Rosalyn had just been a bad idea all around. The creature had been too insane; Incubus lost control. He had been forced to render some help just to keep it from killing the Hero prematurely. He had also miscalculated her will to find Stan. He had tried moving the bottle around so that she couldn't find it, but she hadn't given up like he thought she should. Eventually, he had let her find Stan simply to convince her to continue the journey.

He gazed down at them now as they approached. They were arguing again. Something inside reminded him that they always argued, which momentarily distracted him. Ari should no longer be capable of thinking on his own. Incubus did not feel anything amiss, but he was disturbed nonetheless. These beings kept surprising him; he did not like surprises.

* * *

"Fear is an emotion felt by lesser beings," Stan was saying. "I barely know the meaning of the word." 

"Maybe you should get a dictionary," Rosalyn quipped. "And while you're at it, you should check if your picture is under the heading for pigheaded yet."

Stan scoffed. "No, but I believe yours is next to corpulent."

Rosalyn stamped her foot and sent mud flying everywhere. "I am not fat, you self-centered jerk!"

"I'm surprised you even know what it means, you stand-in for the village idiot!"

Rosalyn started to retort, but thought better of it. "Look, there's the tree," she said instead. "Now what?"

Stan took a few moments to gloat before attending to the matter at hand. The two of them looked around warily, expecting some new attack. They had fought increasingly weaker enemies in increasingly greater numbers since Pollack and Illisaith, and had come to the conclusion that Incubus was running out of ideas. The last fight had involved a large herd of cow ghosts; since Stan's power was back to normal by then, the ghosts lasted about thirty seconds.

"That was too easy," he muttered, looking around.

"I know," Rosalyn agreed. "It's like he just gave up."

Stan smirked and assumed his most arrogant posture. "Obviously, he finally understands the futility of challenging Evil King Stan!"

Rosalyn gave him a dubious look and declined to comment. Fortunately, she was spared from any further ranting as a hole opened in the great tree with a resounding grind, much like the sound of a millstone. They held their ground for a long time, but nothing emerged to challenge them. Rosalyn rolled her eyes. "Well, this is clearly a trap," she said, her voice dripping with scorn.

"You know, you have a real talent for stating the obvious," Stan scoffed, earning a disgusted snort.

"Come on, fake evil being. We may as well get this over with."

"Hey! Who're you calling fake, you counterfeit Hero?"

The obligatory juvenile name-calling tapered off as they cautiously entered the viper's nest. The interior of the tree seemed to be made of a white stone of some kind. Massive stone pillars held up a ceiling that towered far higher than it had any reason to. There was light everywhere, but it had no discernable source and allowed for no shadows. The floor was dusted by a strange fog, and in the center of the room, a massive staircase spiraled upwards to vanish into the next floor.

Rosalyn gazed around in awe. The place reminded her of some wicked enchantress's castle from a fairy tale she had read as a child. "Doesn't look much like a tree in here, does it?" she muttered. At the conspicuous lack of sarcasm, she looked around to see that she was alone.

"What do you fear most?" whispered a voice that seemed to come from all around.

Rosalyn raised her weapon and walked around warily. "Where are you?" she demanded. "And what have you done with Stan?"

"If you can't see me, then I'm not telling," Incubus relied cryptically. Rosalyn narrowed her eyes, but aside from the fog, there was nothing to see. "And as for your friend," he went on. "Let's just say he's about to be dealt with." Incubus started to laugh, a rasping hiss that sent shivers down Rosalyn's spine.

"Let him go!" she yelled courageously. "Then let Ari and me go, or I'll be forced to destroy you!"

Incubus appeared to find that hysterically funny. "And just how do you propose to do that?" he asked, his voice the epitome of manic glee.

"I'll find a way," she assured him.

The mist around her feet began to move away. "You think you can save them?" Incubus asked snidely. "You can't even save yourself."

Rosalyn scoffed, completely unimpressed. "If stupid clichés is the best you can come up with, then I've got nothing to worry about!"

As the last of the mist vanished, Incubus laughed darkly and whispered, "But you should…" Then the screams began.

They were faint and distant at first, but they quickly rose in volume. Dozens of voices screamed Rosalyn's name, begging for help. She covered her ears, but the sound only became clearer.

"Rosalyn!" they wailed. "Save us!"

She shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. Intellectually, she knew there was nothing there, but the voices were so loud. They filled her ears and her mind until she could barely hear her own thoughts. "Stop!" she yelled helplessly. "Just shut up!" The voices merely grew louder. At last, in desperation, she cried out, "I don't know how to save you!"

Without missing a beat, the screams changed from pleas for help to menacing accusations. "You failed us! You let us die! You killed us!"

Rosalyn screamed denials, but the voices filled her head until she could no longer think. She dropped quietly to her knees, prepared to accept the accusations as complete truth, until a voice right next to her ear whispered, "You never failed me."

Although the voice was faint, it cut clearly through the din and forced the other voices to drop away one by one. Rosalyn sighed gratefully and looked around, but there was still nothing to see. "Ari?" she ventured.

"Stan is above," his disembodied voice replied. "There's not much I can do, I'm afraid."

Rosalyn nodded, stood, and raised her fist in determination. "Don't worry," she said fervently. "I'll save you both." She turned and ran for the stairs. Unnoticed, the particle of light that was Ari in this world hastened to follow.

* * *

Stan gazed around in arrogant unconcern; noting Rosalyn's absence, he smirked. Although he had a feeling it was Incubus' doing, it was considerably more fun to assume that the Hero woman had simply been too scared to follow. He found himself in a room nearly identical to the one Rosalyn was in, although this room was all black and the stairs went down instead of up. He raised an eyebrow. "An all black room for an Evil King? How cliché?" 

"You think so?" Incubus whispered as he made his appearance. He didn't bother with trying to fool Stan; the Evil King was watching him come in, after all. Instead, he concentrated himself into a cloud that floated just above eye-level. "Tell me, what do you fear the most?"

"You're the King of Nightmares," Stan sneered. "You tell me."

"Oh, I know," Incubus assured him. He floated around Stan's head, forcing Stan to turn or lose sight of him. "I know exactly what keeps you awake late into the darkness. I'm just wondering if you know."

Stan gave a low, malicious chuckle. "The only thing keeping me awake at night is the fact that I don't need to sleep."

"But you do sleep on occasion," Incubus returned slyly. "Would you like to see your worst fear?"

Stan readied himself for a fight. He knew exactly what Incubus was talking about, and he was not going to give the foolish mist creature the pleasure. Rather than wait for whatever Incubus had in store, he threw an energy shot that went straight through the ethereal fog, much to his dismay. Incubus cackled insanely. "You see? I am pure energy! You can't hurt me, but I can kill you!"

The mist swarmed around Stan, and he saw what it really was. Not mist, but thousands of tiny light creatures. Incubus was a being like Legion, made up of the collective consciousness of the many creatures it had absorbed. Or in this case, the dreams he had eaten. Although he did very little real damage, being stung by thousands of creatures over and over did take its toll on a body. When Stan finally managed to get out of the swarm, he was red and bleeding. He charged another shot, but instead of just throwing it into the middle of the swarm, he forced it to become many tiny shots and sent them all after individual creatures. Few of the shots hit, but Incubus screamed in shock. He had never been hurt before; more than that, there were places inside him he could no longer feel.

Stan grinned viciously at the sight of so many blackened dead particles that hung motionless within the swarm. "You were saying?" he asked in mock curiosity. He jumped away as Incubus rushed him again, but it did little good. The swarm was all around him again, pricking him. It didn't hurt much, but if he didn't get out of it, Incubus would win by sheer numbers. He charged a significantly smaller shot and did the same as before. Inside the swarm like this, it was easier to hit more of the particles. Incubus screamed again and flew away.

Stan shook his head to clear it; being in the middle of Incubus was like being inside a swarm of bees: hot and loud. He was disturbed to find that his power level was lower than it should have been, but he didn't show it. "Feel like giving up, yet?" he taunted Incubus instead.

The Nightmare King howled his rage and began whirling faster. He shifted colors in a psychedelic collage; combined with the whirling, it made him look like an especially threatening thundercloud. Although Stan was impressed with the effect, he merely smiled condescendingly and said, "Is that all you've got?"

Incubus rushed forward and swarmed Stan again, but it wasn't the mildly annoying pricking that it had been. It felt like thousands of tiny knives driving into his skin. His eyes watered, but he managed to hit Incubus again. More and more of the little lights were going dark, but Incubus didn't seem to be weakened in the slightest; in fact, he seemed even stronger. He didn't back off, this time.

Stan drew power into his hands and started swatting at Incubus. It worked well enough, and he wasn't using near as much power, but it was still being drained far too quickly. In a last ditch effort to escape, he decided to try an experiment. He forced his magic into a swarm like Incubus, then set it to attacking and successfully got away. Although the eternally egotistical Evil King would never admit to it, he was starting to get very worried. He had lost a great deal of power from Incubus' attack, and used a great deal more to fight back. He was weakening.

Incubus finally fended off the last of Stan's attack. He had taken a great deal of damage as well; the black specks were becoming increasingly obvious. The Nightmare King had never had a fight like this before. He had always won because his opponents couldn't touch him. Then, suddenly, Stan had arrived and everything changed.

Here was someone who didn't cower in fear from his worst nightmare, someone who didn't bow to the will of the Nightmare King. Every single time he had tried to show Stan his nightmares, the Shadow Evil King had only gotten angry. Did he really fear anything? Incubus was beginning to wonder.

But he would win in the end; he always won in the end. No one could defeat a nightmare. Some stood longer than others, but they all bowed to his will and power. Stan would, too, given enough time. Rosalyn already had, or so he thought.

Incubus decided to change tactics. Instead of rushing toward Stan, he slowed his roiling to almost a stop and adopted an air of friendliness. "You're a worthy opponent," he said. "I don't think anyone's ever stood this long against me."

Stan drew himself up. He wasn't fooled by this display of mock friendship, but if he could stall for time, he would. "You, too," he responded. "I think the only person who's ever given me this much of a workout is…hm…I can't think of anyone."

"Not Rosalyn?" Incubus asked slyly.

Stan scoffed. "That brain dead Hero? She couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag."

Incubus chuckled. "She's easy on the eyes, though."

Stan wondered what Incubus was up too. "Oh, sure, if you like fat, old pink hogs," he scoffed

Incubus seemed startled. "Then, you don't like her much?"

Stan laughed loudly as he figured out what Incubus was trying to do. "Like her? I hate her! I can't stand the woman! She's annoying; her voice is painful to listen to. She never shuts up, and she's constantly complaining about something or calling me stupid."

Incubus drew back and looked at Stan for the longest time. While he was more than capable of discerning a person's fears, other emotions were lost on him. Still, he could have sworn the two were friends at the very least, despite Ari's earlier assurances that they hated each other. He sought inside himself for the boy, but was forced to assume that Ari was one of the dead parts now. Without his meager input to help figure this out, Incubus looped around aimlessly in reflection of his collective mind's attempt to understand.

Stan took the opportunity awarded by Incubus' distraction to slowly gather his power together. Although the mist creature was busy trying to sort himself out, he didn't want to risk being noticed. And although being careful was nerve-racking, he knew he would only have one chance; he had to make it count. Finally, however, he threw the shot.

Incubus noticed at the last minute. He tried to move, but not all of him was cooperating. Most of the shot succeeded, and he screamed as even more random bits of consciousness died. At first, he hadn't wanted to kill Stan. The Great Evil King was very strong and would have made a perfect conduit into the real world. Incubus had tried to slowly overwhelm him and make him bow to his will. When that failed, he had decided to try some psychological terrorism, and show Stan what he had done to Rosalyn. But Stan didn't care about Rosalyn, so that plan got shot down almost before it could be born.

Now, Incubus was hurting, parts of him were dead, and he was extremely angry. No one had hurt him like this before. No one had ever stood this long against him. He was the King of Nightmares; all things that dreamed bowed to his will. And now, this mere mortal thought he could win? Forget using Stan; Incubus was going to obliterate him!

For possibly the first time in his life, the King of Nightmares lost his temper and patience and charged Stan. Every part of him that still lived glowed red with rage. Nothing sane could be so furious, but he was not sane. The accumulation of countless minds and terrified dreams had driven him mad millennia ago, if, indeed, he had ever known sanity.

Stan tried to get away, but the swarm was all around him, sapping his energy at an incredible rate. The buzzing was louder; it filled his ears and his mind, and he realized that it wasn't just a wordless hum. It was the sound of innumerable voices screaming in fear and pain. Stan fell to his knees, and then to the ground, almost too weak to breath. As he watched his hands vanish before his eyes, he knew he was dead. However, defiant to the end, he gathered what was left of his power and threw it at Incubus as he done to his father earlier. For a split second, he heard the satisfying sound of Incubus' dying scream, and then he knew no more.

* * *

A single speck of light hovered in an endless void and wondered where everyone had gone, and how it had come to be here. It could remember that there were others once, but little else. It shivered slightlyand sighed; it was very lonely, being alone. The Spirit of Solitude went off in search of a friend. 


	33. A Brief Interlude

Natasha stared at the messenger in disbelieving shock for a very long time. Stan? Gone? It couldn't be. He couldn't be dead because that meant that his body would break up into its component parts. He wasn't allowed to be dead; she needed him alive.

She needed his blood to complete her ceremony. How could she get that if he was dead? How could she kill him off to revive Gohma if he was already dead? How could…how could…

With a cry of despairing rage, she mind blasted the little demon and started furiously kicking its twitching corpse. The knowledge that she would one day be reunited with her beloved was all that had kept her going these centuries past. She knocked the ritual paraphernalia to the stone floor and collapsed onto the altar, sobbing.

* * *

Rosalyn looked back at the town of Triste one last time. They had taken Ari there to recover, as much from the physical damage as to the mental. He couldn't even look at Illisaith, which was perfectly understandable as far as she was concerned. She was having trouble with it herself. 

She never thought she would actually miss the pompous, self-absorbed Evil King. What was there to miss, really? He was pompous and self-absorbed. And he was evil. Or so she thought. But…he had fixed her shadow at last. He had sacrificed himself for all of them. "I can't believe he's actually gone," she muttered.

Star chirped softly, and Illisaith shook his head. "I don't know. Would I know?"

"What'd she say?"

Star chirped again. "Apologies," she replied in a more understandable language. "I wondered if the dark one could have survived. And…I fear I do not know either, brother Illisaith."

They fell silent for a time until Rosalyn was compelled to say, "He sacrificed himself for us." She found herself rather stuck on that point.

Illisaith scoffed. "Please. I wouldn't have. You think he would?"

"He did!"

"Why are you defending him?"

"Why are you so jealous?"

The Image opened his mouth and closed it again with a snap, turning away. He heard a soft click as Rosalyn loosened her rapier and, as usual, pretended he did not. She would trust him on her own terms or not at all. Anyway, that wasn't even what bothered him.

Even dead, he found himself competing with his creator. He wasn't falling back into his old habits; he refused. But it did make him very, very irritable. He didn't even like Stan, but Rosalyn seemed to expect him to mourn or something. As far as he was concerned, the world was a better place.

Oh, who was he kidding? Maybe he didn't like Stan, but he didn't rejoice in his demise either. He just wished the woman he loved didn't keep going on about how great the stupid Evil King was.

His thoughts were interrupted by a click as she finally relaxed again. At least she was doing that sooner than she had been.

"What are we to do?" Star began. "With dar-Stanley gone?"

"I'm going to help you find Lightless Void," Rosalyn answered. "I still think Natasha probably has him."

"And I'm helping," Illisaith interjected. "I promised I would, and I don't break my word unlike some people."

Rosalyn smiled a bit at the jab to her former enemy. He had redeemed himself in her eyes, but it didn't make it any less amusing. Besides, she rather thought it was fitting.

* * *

Ari watched his companions until they were well out of sight. Unlike the three of them, he didn't believe Stan was truly dead. Marlene had mentioned that he was in denial and he should move on. Shortly thereafter, she had started bashing the demon king, and he had lost his temper. 

Neither of them had ever done anything but boss him around, but at least Stan had never expected to be liked for it. He was what he was, completely honest and unabashed. Well, as honest as a lying Evil King could be. He never claimed to be good. He never claimed to be anything other than what he was.

Marlene, on the other hand…

She seemed to expect Ari's affection while doing nothing to earn it. He was fed up with her attitude and with her. He would still consider her a friend if she wanted to be one after his little explosion, but that was it.

He stared at the last place he had seen his friends for a while longer. He just needed them to get far enough away…

Ari wasn't about to take this sitting down. He wasn't sure what he was going to do exactly, but there had to be someone out there who could help Stan. And if not, he would find Natasha finish his master's quest.

That's what Master Stan would have wanted.

Standing, he dashed to the door, spared a moment to compose himself, and went out. There was no one around, which was just as well; he didn't much want to lie to anyone, although he would if he had to. But most everyone was on the other side of town, working to rebuild.

He shivered in the chill of the PosPos snowfields and briefly wondered what he was doing. Part of him felt that he should rejoice at his newfound freedom; Stan was evil anyway, and the world would be a safer place without him. That voice sounded a bit like Rosalyn, in fact. He felt driven by something, though; almost as though someone was shouting in his ear.

It sounded quite a bit like Stan, in fact.

Ari blinked and glanced around furtively. There was an odd little thought echoing around his head. It did sound quite a bit like Stan. He couldn't seem to focus on it, but…

"It's not enough for you to possess my shadow, is it?" he sighed. "You just had to get the rest of me, too."

If there was an answer, he couldn't hear it. He shook his head and debated whether to be happy or annoyed. It certainly explained his unusually short temper. And why he couldn't look at Illisaith without wanting to kill him. Rosalyn was going to have kittens, he realized with a laugh. Obviously, whatever remnants had been left of Stan's personality after Incubus tore him apart had latched onto Ari to keep from vanishing completely. He briefly wondered if that was something the Evil King could just do, or if it was because they had all been reduced to bodiless personalities anyway.

Something told him it was the former, so it was clearly the latter. Something felt a bit angry at his deduction, so he was clearly right.

Something informed him in no uncertain terms that if he didn't stop being clever, he was quickly going to discover how bad a migraine could actually be.

Ari grinned. "Yes, Master Stan," he said in mock resignation. He was further informed that if Rosalyn ever found out, he was going to wish Stan were nice enough to provide a fate worse than death. "Whatever you say, Master Stan."

There was a pause, and he was ordered to quit being cheeky and hurry up. Apparently, they needed to reach the Simulacrum. Ari asked why, but Stan had exhausted his ability to focus. His faint voice was reduced to an echo, and the boy was more or less alone again.

* * *

A/N: _/relieved sigh/_ Whew, I thought I was going to have to scrap this and start over for a while there. That'll teach me to write something before I think about the consequences, won't it? Anyway, sorry my first chapter in so long is so short, but the nature of the chapter demanded it. Now, this is one of three stories (one original _/squee/_) that I have going at once, so I make no promises as to when the next will be done, though I'm fairly confident it won't take another...what, two years?

Also, I'm having a crisis! Supposedly, someone drew a fancomic about this story. I must find it! I'm going insane, here! I can't believe nobody told me! Does anyone know who it was and where I can find it? Or one or the other? Seriously, there is nothing I love more than people who _/coughfeedmyegocough/_ draw fanart of my fanfics.


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